Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The Apple of My Daddy's Eye

Today I want to share a devotion from my new book, Fighting Fear: Winning the War at Home When Your Soldier Leaves for Battle.


The Apple of My Daddy's Eye
by Edie Melson


For thus says the Lord of hosts, “After glory He has sent Me against the nations which plunder you, for he who touches you, touches the apple of His eye.” Zechariah 2:8 NASB

Ever since I can remember I’ve been told I was the apple of my daddy’s eye. When I was growing up, in addition to his office at the university, my dad had a desk at home. It seemed huge to me, made of dark wood and covered with important things. I used to play under that desk, hiding for hours with my dolls and my imagination. Why was I drawn to that old desk? In addition to the papers, pens and blotter on top of the desk, there was also a polished wooden apple, inset with a delicate brass frame. That frame held a picture of me. It was a physical representation of how my father felt about me. This reinforced how precious I was to my dad and how much he loved me.

I wasn’t the only special person either. This saying was common and I’d heard many people refer to others as the apple of their eye. Many years later I began to wonder about the origin of this saying and learned that it originated in the Bible, specifically the Old Testament. Not satisfied with just that information, I dug deeper. I learned that the apple of the eye is the pupil of the eye and that this saying was actually a word picture about relationship. It’s a picture of being so close to someone that you can see yourself reflected in the pupil of their eye.

That picture brought tears to my own eyes as I remembered how much I meant to my earthly daddy and how much I mean to my heavenly father. How does that relate to the time my son spent as a soldier in Iraq? One day, when I was struggling with fear over his safety, I read the verse in Zechariah where God refers to His people as the apple of His eye. He reminded me of the meaning of that verse and showed me that even though my son was special to me, he was infinitely more precious to God.

As I prayed and meditated over this verse I found myself at peace. Not only did I care about what happened in the Middle East with my son, God cared. And more importantly, God could and would take care of my son.

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