I have a dad that overestimates me.
I say this as I'm waiting for ten o'clock to roll around, so that I can translate for my dad while he talks to one of his clients who speaks little English.
"You'll do fine," he says.
My dad seems to think sometimes that I can do no wrong. He's seen my Spanish grades and disappointing AP scores and saw me in tears via Skype while I was in South America, frustrated because my Spanish sometimes just didn't cut it.
And yet he has this faith in me that I'm good enough to translate this appointment for him.
As simple as that is, it makes me think more.
I'm amazed at my dad's seeming overestimation of my not-so-mad skills, but what about my heavenly dad?
My earthly father has always pushed me and cheered me on (for the most part). He's seen me screw up a time or two and he's been there when I was at my absolute darkest, and frankly, scariest, times of life.
And yet he has faith in me.
How much more does my heavenly father care?
He's seen the darkest parts of me that nobody but Him will ever know about. He fully knows every twist and turn of the secret past.
And yet He has a plan for me.
Why would God entrust me with a mission? I'm not worthy of trust. He knows I've failed Him and I've stumbled and I've fell. He knows that I don't always have it together. He knows that I'm broken and feel like I'm missing pieces.
And yet He still pushes me forward.
It seems like he overestimates me, but God doesn't overestimate. He knows. End to beginning. Good and bad. Success or failure.
And yet, He has a mission for me.
"You'll do fine," He says.