"For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations." — Psalm 100:5

When scrolling social media, you never know what you’re going to get: a talking fried egg, a middle school teacher educating adults on what students think is embarrassingly out of style, a miniature hippo traipsing about, or—and this is the one that got me—a little girl who’s about to be reunited with her deployed father.

She’s in her classroom, and the teacher welcomes a virtual guest. The little girl immediately becomes tearful at the sight of her dad on the screen, and it’s obvious that she loves him and misses him tremendously. As her dad leads her class in a guessing game about his location, students pour over their maps and try to solve the clues. Eventually, we begin to suspect that the girl’s father is nearer than they imagined. In fact, he’s sitting in their principal’s office.

When the realization hits her, the little girl sobs: Daddy! Are you here? And soon, she takes off running through the halls.

When I first saw this video, I had to put down my phone and cry for a few minutes. Even now as I’m recounting it, a few tears come. If you’ve seen it—or one of the many other precious videos of loved ones reunited—you’ve probably cried, too. 

Why do such things cut so deep? How do we all connect with this little girl, even if we’ve never shared such an experience?

I think God has designed all of us, no matter our age, to be children who long for their Father to be near. And incredibly, in these moments and in every moment, the conclusion is the same: God is faithful.

The Times We’ve Felt Alone

Feeling alone is one of the worst feelings, don’t you think? Even a Christian—who knows the Scripture’s repeated refrain “never will I leave you nor forsake you,” and the promise of “Immanuel, God With Us”—has times when he or she feels desperately alone, perhaps even forgotten. Psalm 100:5 says, ”For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations,” but perhaps this feels like a platitude rather than a promise. Perhaps it's hard to imagine God’s goodness and love within the chaos of your actual life. In these moments, something within us cries out: Is God actually faithful? Will he actually stick with us, or has he gone away? Will he actually keep His promises, or has he forgotten them?

I was seventeen. I’d always been a ballerina, until I wasn’t. It felt like it was ripped away from me. Sometimes I feel like I am clawing at thin air, trying to get it back. God, why did you make me a girl who loves to dance if you weren’t going to let me dance?

I was twenty-one. I’d always loved to write, and I got a writing job I loved—until I was unexpectedly jobless. I told people, but I cried too hard when I talked and then there was silence. I searched and searched but stayed unemployed. Anxiety was my alarm clock, and I’d check my email every morning: still nothing. I counted bread for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to see if there would be enough. God, did you forget to direct my steps?

I was twenty-six. I was longing for children, but I dared not tell anyone. What if I cried too hard when I talked? What if no one cared? On Mother’s Day, my pastor husband counseled other couples who were struggling to have babies. He shared it to encourage me, saying, “We aren’t alone!” I screamed back, “I sat by myself during that entire service! I am alone!” God, are you watching?

I was thirty. By God’s grace, we had two children back-to-back. We loved our church home, but they said, “Get out.” They threatened, “Do not talk about it or we will take your insurance.” I cried alone as I packed up my kids’ nurseries, and I knew no one heard. I made accusations in my heart: God, you must be far away or forgetful.

The Times We’ve Cried Out “Daddy! Are You Here?”

We all have moments when we have felt alone, perhaps even forgotten by God. But as real as these feelings feel, something truer is at play: Your Father is here. At every plot point, God is faithful. He does not forget you. He has not left you. He has not changed his promises. If you feel cynical about it, then you and I understand one another—and that’s why it helps both of us if I tell you what God has done for me:

I was seventeen. I couldn’t dance, so I tried something new: I sang. And now, I still sing. I sing God’s promises over my church family, and I am so thankful for the honor. At one point, I connect the dots. I am singing, “All my life, you have been faithful,” and I have to stop and cry, right there in front of everyone because I actually believe it. Daddy! Are you here? If I had been a girl who danced, would I have grown into a woman who sings about God’s promises and believes them?

I was twenty-one. I could not find a job, so I tried something new: I went back to school to become a teacher. Soon, I became a writing teacher. Eventually, I became a writer again, and a Bible teacher—and then, I noticed him. Daddy! Are you here? I realized that it was all necessary preparation for the work I now do and love, and I realized it all worked together for good. Every day of my life is actually written in his book.

I was twenty-six. A trusted man came to my husband and said, “I know you want children, and I am praying for you.” My husband shared it to encourage me, saying, “We aren’t alone!” I wondered how this man knew. Daddy! Are you here? Three years later, we named a son after this man. Years after this, I realized his name means “Watchful.” I remember a song I have often sung but have forgotten is true: “His eye is on the sparrow/And I know he watches me.”

I was thirty. We moved into a new home and began ministry at a new church. I was broken and suspicious. They loved me anyway. I began to see that the former place was dangerous in ways we didn’t understand, and I began to see this new place was a safe haven. Daddy! Are you here? We built trust, slowly. We made friends, slowly. I eventually told these friends my story, cautiously. I cried too hard when I talked, but they heard. They cried with me.

The Times When We Need to Remember

The answer to the question, “Daddy! Are you here?” is always the same: “Yes, my beloved. I am here.” This is my story, but it’s yours, too.

Perhaps you are like the little girl in the video, thinking your Father is far away. Perhaps your insides are more complicated than hers right now, and you are suspicious of your Father. You feel abandoned, ignored, tricked. You feel like his goodness was a marketing ploy, that his love wasn’t an “enduring forever” thing but an “endure for a minute” thing. And while these feelings feel real, something truer is at play: God is faithful. The Bible will testify that he is—and your story will too, if you comb through it.

God’s faithfulness isn’t about getting that thing we’ve prayed for, nor is it about making sense of the bad days. God’s faithfulness is about his unrelenting goodness, his love that endures forever. Whether or not we understand what He’s doing, we can bank on the fact that he will never not be good and loving. 

Can I challenge you to keep watch for your watchful God? We need not look for bows to stick on top of our hard stories—we look for how he’s been faithful within them. It’s a valuable practice because when we remember God’s faithfulness to us over the course of our own lives, it fuels our faith for today’s unknowns. Of course, as long as we live, there will be moments when we feel alone and unseen, forgotten by God. But are we? No. He is faithful, always.

Perhaps you are just moments from the realization, moments from crying out, “Daddy! Are you here?” And you can trust that the answer, always, is “Yes, my beloved. I am here.”