My grandfather on my mom’s side was a very quiet and patient man. I knew this as a fact from a very young age. His unassuming presence was always shadowed by my grandmother who talked a lot and talked over others. I knew that my Abba (our name for our grandfather in Urdu) was there as a place where we, as little children, could run to. He would pick us up or just quietly sit with us as he watched everything and everyone around us.

Even though he was in the periphery, he had a sharp eye. Many times, it seemed like he knew more about what was going on in the family than anyone else. I think it was his ability to take it all in and process not only what was being said, but more importantly, what was not being said.

After my Appa (grandmother) passed away, Abba came to live with my parents. You couldn’t tell he was in the house, except for his gardening tools and his love for croissants (he would call them “cross nuts” in his Urdu accent). I was blessed to spend time with him and to get to know more about his life. He was a pharmacist, who made all his medications at his compound pharmacy (the only pharmacy in town) in Peshawar, Pakistan. He told me sweet stories about how he would walk to school as a young man and he would take food in his pockets for the birds he saw on the way (I know that’s where I get my love for birds!). One bird in particular caught his attention and he ended up following Abba home. It was a pheasant with beautiful plumage and he slept at the foot of his bed.

As I grew up and moved away, one evening I drove from college to speak with my parents about getting married to an American boy. The conversation did not go well. Before I dashed away, I went to my Abba’s bedroom in tears and told him that I was getting married against my parents’ will but that I wanted him to know what was going on.

In the tumultuous weeks that followed my “Declaration of Independence” from my parents, I found out that my Abba was the voice of reason in the home. Being the elder, he was able to plead my case with my parents. I was guilty of treason but he still asked for clemency.

Even though there was tension in the family with the marriage outside the culture and religion, they relented. We were able to come to an agreement and had two weddings- a Muslim & a Christian wedding.

I became a Christian much later in life (when I was 35 years old). When I first read the Lord’s Prayer in the Bible (Matthew 6:9-13), the first word startled me! It was Jesus Christ Himself asking his disciples to pray by addressing the God of the Universe as “Abba.”
The photo above shows how I have felt all my life about my Abba. Even at a picnic, he gave me shelter under an umbrella. He was kind, patient and loving. He was my advocate and he cared for me.

If an earthly grandfather can be like that, how much more will our Heavenly Father care for His children? I’m grateful for my childhood memories of my Abba. However, I am eternally secure in the knowledge that God the Father is the true Abba —our rock and our redeemer. If you do not have knowledge of who God is, as revealed in the person of Jesus Christ, please comment and let me introduce you to the One who has given me a new life in Christ. It is He who I honor this Father’s Day and every day.
Lord Jesus, May it be so. Amen.