It's seven o'clock in the morning and my phone is ringing, waking me up. I know exactly who it is, the Father, he's the only person who calls me this early. I'm not really a 'morning person', but one never ignores a call from the Father. So, I reach over and answer on the third ring.
"Good morning, my beloved," he says before I can even say, "Hello".
"Good morning, Father", I never say 'the' when I'm speaking directly to him. But I think it.
"How are you today, my loved one?" His voice is so smooth and eloquent, a deep baritone that fills my heart with a longing I can't explain.
"I'm good, Father, and you?""
"I am wonderful, now that I'm hearing your voice, my child."
"Thank you, Father." That feeling of yearning gets stronger and I feel like I want to cry.
"I love you so much, do you know that? So much, that there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." His voice is full of gentleness and concern, like he can tell exactly what I'm feeling. I don't know how he does it, when I'm speaking to him or in his presence, I actually believe he loves me as much as he says he does, and he's always saying he does. But when I leave him or hang up, I remember my name and that confidence seeps out like air through an invisible hole in a tire, silently and invisibly. But right now, I am speaking to him and as I look around my bedroom, I believe him even more. The Father is infinitely wealthy and abundantly generous. He bought me this two-story, five-bedroom house for my twenty-first birthday. It has a two-car garage and an indoor swimming pool below the ground floor of the house. I guess it wouldn't be wrong to say it's three levels. The pool is in what would traditionally be called the basement in most homes. But it doesn't resemble any basement I've ever seen. It actually looks more like a grecian bath house, with two marble columns at both ends of the room. The space is wide open, with murals of waterfalls and lush landscapes on every wall but one. That wall is a tinted glass patio door that opens to a small outdoor foyer with limestone steps leading up to the backyard. The pool dominates the space, but there's plenty of room around it for the lounge chairs that ring the pool and a kitchen/juice bar area at the opposite end of the entrance. There are two changing rooms on that side, as well. It's such a tranquil atmosphere, I spend most of my down time and entertaining there, not always swimming in the heated pool or relaxing in the jacuzzi, either. I just love to lie on a chaise and read a selection from the vast bookshelf that stands seven feet tall and is filled with all kinds of books, cds and and an awesome remote stereo system. The high cathedral ceiling makes the space seem even bigger than it is and I just adore the way music sounds in there, the acoustics are fantastic! The most amazing thing about my house, though, is that the Father designed it and created the interior decoration himself, with no input from me or anyone else, since it was a surprise. And he got every single detail exactly right! There isn't one part of the house or grounds that I would change, it suits my tastes and preferences perfectly! I don't know how he knew just what I'd like, we haven't spent that much time together for him to know me that well. But he always proves that he knows what would please me every time he does something for me. I can never find any fault with his gifts.
"What do you have planned for the day?" He asks me when I can't think of an appropriate response to his declaration.
"I have plans to go to the rest home nearby this afternoon, to read to the elderly patients who don't get any visitors." I told him. I know this will please him and even though I resist letting him behind my walls most of the time, there's still a large part of me that desires his favor. I want him to like me, though I don't like feeling that way.
"That is very kind of you, my child. I am pleased with your willingness to show compassion to others. It is a truly good quality to possess."
I sigh inwardly, because, though I try to ignore it, I can feel my little heart swelling with pride at his praise. "Thank you, Father."
I'm surprised when I hear his deep, throaty chuckle, "Always so formal, my dear. I believe we know each other well enough by now that you should feel more comfortable with me, hm?" and he chuckles softly again.
I can't explain how this is making me feel. His words could be taken as a slight rebuke, but the way he said them gave me the feeling that he wasn't chastising me. It was like, how you'd be tickled by the silliness of a favored child or loved one and then tease them a bit about it. I felt in that moment, like he wouldn't change one thing about me, that he loves me specifically for who I am. I found myself smiling for a moment, whoa! This is starting to feel like a real father/daughter interaction, instead of the way I usually feel about him.
"I actually called this morning because I would like to spend some time with you today, if you can spare it. I want to discuss your upcoming birthday celebration with you."
"Really?! I mean, usually you just surprise me." Too late, I realized that might have sounded like a complaint. "I- I mean, I didn't mean, what I meant to say was that I always love the surprises you plan for me... I didn't mean it to sound like I don't like them..."
YOU ARE READING
The Adopted (began 5/8/12)
ContoJodi Chambers is approaching her 40th birthday. She was adopted as a child by a wealthy man who has many adopted children. But Jodi has never been able to form a close bond with the man who raised her and gave her everything she has. She lives a qui...
