The heart of the Father


I dreamed I was kneeling in heaven, quite close to the foot of the throne.
The power of God's presence was awesome; its rays saturated my bone.
An angel afforded protection as he covered me up with his wing.
I listened in absolute wonder as the creatures started to sing.

The whole of the throne room erupted with praise to Almighty God.
I fell on my face in amazement, then the Son gave His Father a nod
And, down through the portals of glory, the dear child of heaven descends,
To start life below as a mortal - "No human can ever transcend".
He lay down His glory and splendour, to His Father He whispered: "Good-bye".
The heart of the Father was heavy; I'm sure that God started to cry!

The first tender moments of childhood: the teething and infant alarms;
His Father looked down in compassion as He rocked in another man's arms.
With His first tiny steps as a toddler, when He finished up "all in a heap",
From the throne came the voice of the Father: "Watch out! Careful Son! that's too steep!"
As He hit his first nail with a hammer... and missed; how He started to cry.
We watched as his mum kissed it better; from the throne came an audible sigh.
At twelve years He entered the temple. When questioned, he answered with joy.
He amazed all the teachers and rabbis and God proudly said: "That's my boy."

He pleased His Father in Heaven as in wisdom and stature He grew.
When baptised by John in the Jordan, God shouted: "Dear Son! I love You!"
All alone in the desert He hungered from fasting for forty long days.
Tempted by Satan, He triumphed and gave his dear Father the praise.

Multitudes followed him gladly; compassion just flowed from his soul.
One word gave them instant deliverance, one touch made the paralysed whole.
All honour He gave to the Father, even nights when He had not a bed!
Birds had their nest, foxes found rest, but the Son! where can He lay His head?

In Gethsemane's garden we witnessed the pain of the Son of a King.
Bowed in despair, travailing in prayer; but God answered back not a thing!
"My will is not mine but Yours, Father! The sins of the world I now bear!"
As blood seeped through pores just like water, an angel said: "God! don't You care?"
Betrayed by a kiss from sad Judas, arrested and three times denied,
Blindfolded and smitten, ridiculed and beaten; could the heart of a Father not cry!
The whole host of heaven was ready, awaiting one sign from the throne,
To sweep down in a torrent of vengeance and carry their precious one home.

But God would not issue an order. Instead, from His heart, this sound slips:
"Even I cannot change my decision when the word has gone out from my lips."
"Bring Him home! bring Him home! They're not worthy!" To the throne all these pleadings are hurled.
But the heart of the Father just whispers: "I am God and I so love the world!"
"Is there no-one in all of creation to exchange? We would crown him with wealth!"
"The price is too great!" says the Father, "too great - so I've sent down Myself!"

The hill to Golgotha was rugged. The cross, with its splinters so deep,
Pressed down through His skin - the thorns entered in. Did I really hear God start to weep!
They laughed when the nails pinned their victim, in agony, fast to the tree.
But the worst pain of all was the sin from the fall that was nailed to His heart just for me.
"Forgive them! Forgive them! dear Father - they do not know what they do."
As, deep from His chest, He exhaled His last breath: "My Spirit I commit unto You."
I felt all the horror and anguish that were heaped on my Saviour that day.
Turning round to the throne, I stood all alone. The Father had just turned away.

Darkness pervaded creation as even the sun stopped its light.
The silence in heaven was awesome; its splendour now dimmed in my sight.
While, deep in the caverns of evil, there came an incredible glow;
With a victory roar, chains fell to the floor and the captives started to flow
Out through the dungeons of darkness. They flooded - a jubilant throng -
Saints from the tomb, all marching home, and singing a victory song.

Demons lay crouching in horror; Satan lay stripped and in pain
As Christ with the key of a conqueror brushed aside death's icy chain,
Shouting "Grave! Now where is your victory! Death! now show me your sting!"
The power of Satan is shattered! Let all of creation now sing!

All through the portals of glory, a whisper - a whisper, a call!
"Someone's coming! Someone's coming!" said Michael, as heaven looked down through the hall.
"Who is it! Who is it! Who's coming? What man dares to challenge God's wrath?"
I stood in a whirl of confusion, but then I heard God start to laugh.
Through the gates bursts a solitary figure; with a shout God descends from His throne,
And, with hands raised in jubilant victory, Jesus calls out: "Hey Dad! I've come home!"

Copyright © 1995 Diane Fisher.