God Reframed It as Zealous Finding my Father
It was going hundreds of miles an hour. It was thousands of miles in the sky. It was a seat.
And I was buckled in it. Gazing through the compact oblique window, I saw endless hues of pastel blues puckered with cascading shades of curly, swirly cotton-candy clouds. The sunlight reflected the joy in my heart pulsing from the grateful satisfaction of a deferred hope fulfilled at long last. Reunion. Reconciliation. Reconnection. What I thought might never happen was, indeed, happening.
The cantankerous roar of the airplane’s turbines was a stark contrast to the calm purring within me. Recalling the strange series of events that landed me in the airboat getting ready to land at JFK airport in the bustling Big Apple slid me into cruise control. Strange as it might have seemed to others. Miraculous it was to me.
A gentle unyielding whisper from the Holy Spirit within birthed the entire outcome. “Just type his name in the search bar.” That was all God asked of me. A simple obedience. Such a small request. Yet one that required my faith to bound like a gazelle. It had been so long since I had spoken with him — seen him, felt his embrace, heard him utter my name — that I didn’t know if I’d spell his name correctly. So many ordinary moons had passed before this once-in-a-blue moon occasion. Would I even recognize him if his face appeared on the screen?
“Go ahead, put his name in the search bar.” There was that prod again stoking the fire of hope. The very breath of God was breathing on the embers of my faith into full flame. Was it spelled with a “w” or a “u?” Was it with or without a “y?” Maybe I should spell it both ways to cover all my bases. My typing stuttered and hesitated as I gave God my simple yes. I went with the most common spelling I thought of. D-w-a-y-n-e and pressed enter. There, I did it. Part of me felt foolish. God claimed it and reframed it as zealous.
I didn’t know I was holding my breath when a list of profile results popped up on the Facebook page. I scrolled searching. Each blink of my eyes reverberated a prayer against disappointment.
I paged down and down, stopping for but a moment when one man’s image tickled a place in my soul. But apprehension caused me to scroll on a little further. It wasn’t until the Holy Spirit nudged me again that I dared to go back and click on the man’s name, D-u-a-n-e. Behold – it was my long-lost father, despite my misspelling and all.
“Hi, my name is De’Siree. I saw my name listed on your profile page. And I think I’m the daughter you’re looking for.” “Hello, beloved. I’m your father. I’ve never stopped loving you. How I’ve missed you.” The plane had landed. The cabin was on the ground but strolling from it felt like walking on air. I arrived at the luggage carousel. And he was there with my grandpa, both waiting for me with the same joy of a deferred hope fulfilled years and years at last.
Reunited, and reconnected, with the man and the family I had lost when I was around 4 or 5 years old. I was 18 then. And God had restored all the years the locust had eaten. Impossible you say? Perhaps for others. But for God? Not at all.
The improbable, becomes possible even with the smallest yes, with the most meager step of obedience in God’s direction, with a mustard seed of faith, and the slightest spark of courage to hope. Nothing’s impossible for the God who makes all things possible to those who trust, believe, and
take Him at His word. God voids the impossible because His word doesn’t return to Him void.
by De’Siree N. Reeves