SCRIPTURE: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways", declares the Lord. Isaiah 55:8.

After my discovery that Jesus was a man, during the Easter that I was four years old, I began to wonder if all men were like my Daddy. If that was true, then Jesus would probably be like my Daddy too - and that thought was incredibly frightening for me.

So I began to notice other men. They ALL had big, VERY big hands and most had rough hands too! Whenever I saw someone mowing a lawn or digging in their garden with big shovels, it appeared they were almost always men.When I was growing up in the 'fifties most people around our home had open fires, and it appeared that it was almost always men who chopped the wood. Housing construction was exclusively an activity men pursued, and I saw them sawing wood and hammering nails. I noticed men painting houses and little picket fences. All of these activities were chores my father did, so my suspicions about men in general arose.

Hence the big question arose.....Did all men have a WOODSHED? My father frequently hurt me dreadfully and even raped me in his woodshed. If other men had a woodshed, I thought this would prove that what my father had said to me was correct. ALL men must hurt their little girls in their woodsheds too. By this time I had come to the belief that my father's woodshed was in the garden for the sole reason to have a place far away from the house, where he could hurt me without being heard. I had not thought that there was any other reason to have a woodshed.

Whilst I was pondering on this huge personal issue, a friend from kindergarten invited me home to her house for lunch and a play. I saw this as my big chance to discover if her father, too, had a woodshed, because she was a little girl just like me. Firstly though, I was anxious to discover whether her father would be at home when I went to play. If there was a woodshed, perhaps he would hurt me too, and not just his own little girl. This made me panic.

Eventually, after much fear and vacillation I plucked up the courage to ask my friend Marilyn if her father would be home. I was most relieved when she informed me that he would be out at work till teatime. This was wonderful news! I felt SAFE.

The day came. I was filled with dread in one way, yet I believed that I would now know for sure one way or the other, and this was extremely important for me. The morning at kinder dragged...it was the longest session ever! Marilyn's mother collected us and walked us to their home. My anxiety rose as we progressed down the footpath. On arrival we had lunch.....well......the others had lunch. I could not eat.

We went outside to play........my fear was rising and a sense of dread arose. The lump in my throat and my churning stomach extended to a headache. I wondered why, yet it was such a familiar feeling. I suggested we play in the FRONT. A woodshed would not be at the front of the house. So off we went, but after just a few minutes Marilyn's mother came outside and asked us to play in the back garden.

My moment of truth had come! I dawdled. I edged. I suggested hopefully that we play inside, but her mother refused. I tentatively, slowly headed around the back of the house. My heart pounded. But equally, I NEEDED to go and face this once and for all.

When we reached the rear garden, I furtively glanced around, and, to my absolute horror...

THERE WAS A WOODSHED!!!!!

My fears were true! Daddy was right!!!! All men DID have a woodshed. All Daddies hurt their little girls!!!!! I began to sweat profusely. My legs went all wobbly and I collapsed into the sandpit.

After a few minutes Marilyn's mother came out from the house to see if I was hurt. Oh NO!!!! I was not hurt! The father was OUT!!

She suggested we have a swing to cheer me up. On the swing I began to vomit. I was quickly taken home and my mother put me to bed.

That experience was, I believe, my first panic attack. I suffered panic attacks on and off for many years but certainly this was a most frightening one.I had made an understandable but wrong deduction. Because men appeared to do the same tasks as my father, and even had a woodshed in their back garden, I assumed that they were all like my father.

Many people make the same mistake with God. They may have had an earthly father who hurt them sexually, physically, emotionally, psychologically or spiritually. Their father may have never been available to spend time with them or may have ignored them, or favored another sibling. Consequently it is very easy to assume that God, who is often referred to as our heavenly father, is also someone to fear or resent. We may dismiss the entire concept of a God at all. Yet God IS here. God is perfect. God is all good. Every aspect of God is unchangingly pure and wholesome. God wants us to enjoy our lives to the full. God truly loves us in a way no earthly parent can.

PRAYER: O Lord, when we look around us at all the wrongs of human parents, it is so easy to dismiss you as being a parent like ours. Yet you are not like human parents. We humans ALL fail, and have potential for either good OR bad, yet you, Lord, are all and only good. An unchanging, merciful, kind parent who wants only the best for us. Help us not to assume that you are like earthly parents, because no earthly parent can ever be perfect like you. Amen.

TODAY: God is a perfect parent and is here to protect you and never to harm. If you own a pet dog or cat, spend time with it today. Fondle your pet, stroke its beautiful fur coat. Look into its gentle, trusting eyes. Feel the warmth of its body against yours. Allow yourself to be comforted by your pet today.

God is like your pet. God is here to comfort you and bring you joy and peace. People say a dog is man's best friend, and often we feel they are right. God is SO much better than any pet could ever be, but for today enjoy your pet, or look at one in a pet shop window. Allow it to soothe the ache in your heart. Doctors have actually proven that people who spend time with their pets live longer. So imagine if you spend time with God - you'll live for eternity!

Julie-Anne Wingate. Copyright 2002. All Rights Reserved.