Today my dad took me to the bank to sort out some of the financial woes I've been stressing over these past two weeks, and on the way there he was explaining the channels he'd navigated earlier that day during his lunch break to try and get my problem squared away. And as he spoke I considered what else he'd done for me this week: filled up my gas tank, helped me with my car troubles.
And I said quietly, "I really appreciate your doing all this for me."
And he goes, "Hayley, you're my daughter."
And in a moment I'm remembering my car ride home from Kingston the night before, as I bit my lip and watched the smoke pour out from under the hood, trying to count all the ways God had protected and blessed me this past week. And also trying not cry--definitely not advisable while driving--as the question "WHY?" followed every praise. And I was incredulous when I pulled into my driveway, for the second week in a row, safe and sound.
And I said tearfully, "Why God, why would You do that for me?"
And He goes, "Hayley, you're my daughter."
Who is this King of glory? So powerful, so full of right-ness. How is it that I belong to Him, that He gives me teaching and protection and discipline and care? So undeserved. Who is this King of glory?