The Tyrant King

I am the father of daughters. They grow up. Once they were babies, and I was their king. I have not changed. I am the same man, maybe a little more in love with God than before. I still care, still love, I’m still forceful when needed. I still demand respect. I still protect them as I did when they were babies. Yet in the transformation that is teenage angst, I have become the thorn in their side, their tyrant. it feels like war.

I love anyway. They are mine, and I am theirs.

I wonder if Jesus ever feels the same way I do now. Once viewed as a king, now viewed as a tyrant, yet still in love with those that spit harsh words as relentlessly as the ocean waves pound the coastline. Makes me wonder if I do that to God. To Jesus. Daughters… they provoke much thought, and much more grace needs to be extended, just to bring them through the madness that is called “the teen years”, yet not nearly as much as Jesus extends to us, I would think.

Jesus is the same now as He has always been. He has always loved you. Always been there for you, even though you may not have looked for Him… Always cared, even though we sometimes disregard Him. He loves us where we are, even when we can’t seem to love ourselves or those around us, because of blind anger or cynicism. There’s a lesson there… think I’ll go love on my girls some more, or war some more, depending on the point of view…

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