My father was well known for his laugh, which often came out as a great roar. Interestingly, he made pretty much the same sound when he sneezed.
He could also roar when he was frustrated or mad.
Sometimes, when lying in bed at night, I would hear a muffled roar coming up from downstairs. I would hold my breath, listening for the next sound to find out what kind of roar it was.
My father often worked late and I would be in bed when he got home. Then it was possible that the roar from downstairs was his reaction to a report my mother had given him about the trouble I’d gotten into that day.
But no matter what kind of roar it was, my brother, sister, and I always knew our father loved us.
Of course my father wasn’t perfect. He could be moody, and we learned to avoid going into his room when he paid the bills. He never had a new car, choosing instead to take us on big family vacations. And oh my, he made sure our Christmases were special.
One of the truly amazing things believers take for granted is that we get to call God, “Father.”
“Father” was how Jesus taught his followers to address God.
Psalm 108 says that our Heavenly Father is totally compassionate, totally forgiving to his children. He never treats his children as their sins deserve. He knows how fragile we are, but in our Heavenly Father’s arms we will live forever.
Think about that. God is the creator of a trillion galaxies, and he says to those who fear him, “Call me Dad.”