The True Grit of the Father

One of the best movies of last year was True Grit. In the climax of the film, Mattie Ross is bitten by a snake and is going to die. She calls out for help and Marshall Rooster Cogburn responds quickly and determines to save her. He gets her on their beloved horse and drives all night through the desert sands. The horse is so fatigued that he begins to slow down, but the Marshall drives him to keep going. Eventually the horse gives out and the Marshall allows the horse to die in order to get closer to the goal of saving Mattie. When the horse gives out, he swoops the girl up into his arms and starts walking. He walks for miles, all through the night. He eventually spots a cabin up ahead, a sign of safety. He falls to his knees. He can’t make it. Firing his gun in the air is all the physical energy that he has left. But it is enough. He saves her. His “true grit” is revealed.

Do you know how much grit the Father has shown to save you?

Forget about a beloved horse, God allowed his beloved son to die in order to rescue us from certain death. When we call out to him, he sweeps us up in his powerful arms, and carries us to safety. He does not hesitate; he responds at once. There is nothing that can stop his relentless love for us.

I can only relate to this kind of love in a very small way as a father.

Last year at Disney World, my 5 year old daughter burned her hand pretty badly in the Minnie Mouse House. (Yes, I know, the irony is not lost on me.) Even though we got her first aid, it was clear that someone was going to have to bring her back to the hotel. She was crying in the way that parents understand as genuine pain. So I got a big cup of ice, and put her up on my shoulders, and determined to carry her back. I looked ridiculous: big cup of ice on my head, kiddo on my shoulders, her hand in the ice. I walked for some time to get to the entrance of the park, only to realize that the nightly parade was starting. I became like a fish swimming upstream. Thousands of people were pushing against us to get to the parade. I began yelling out: “Hurt kid, I need to get through!” It didn’t help. They kept on pushing. Eventually I got through, only to wait another half hour for a bus—kid and ice still on my head.

I remember feeling like I would have walked all night if that’s what it took to get her back to safety.

But that’s simply how any human father feels for his kids.

Now imagine what the heavenly Father feels for his kids.

There…are…no…words.

Another post on how a father feels HERE
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