Safely Home

But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”  Luke 15:32 NIV

My wife and I used to ride in separate vehicles on the way to church. One of our two sons would go with her to Sunday School, while the other tagged along with me. During that hour I went to sing hymns for a nursing home and then we would meet in church for the service. Afterwards our practice was to switch who road home with who, mostly because tour little guys liked riding in my pickup truck. Everything worked great, till one day we got a brief taste of what the prodigal’s father had experienced in today’s verse. That was the Sunday that we forgot our older son Chris at church. After being left behind, it didn’t take Chris long to realize that something was amiss, but he didn’t panic. He thoroughly searched the church and asked around with our friends. Remember that in those pre-cell phone years, no one could just call us up, so Chris, being a bit puzzled as to what best to do, just sat down on the steps. Just then one of the deacons (who thankfully was our close friend) came to lock the doors and noticed Chris.

“So, where’s your mom and dad?” he asked. “I don’t know.” Chris answered shaking his head.

“Hey, if you want to ride in my truck, I’ll take you home.” John offered.

Meanwhile when Nancy and I met back at home, minus one son, panic began to set in. I quickly grabbed my keys, ran down the back steps and out the door, when just then John’s truck with both Chris and John grinning from ear to ear pulled up to the house. “Forget something?”  John asked with a chuckle,

As Chris hopped out, Nancy and I ran to embrace our very briefly lost son and understood just a little the prodigal son’s father, as his son came stumbling home. Imagine then the heart of God. Though we have forgotten Him, He has never forgotten us, and He sent Jesus to pick us up at the cross and carry us safely home to Him!

Memories of Mom and the Power of Simple

My mother was a science fiction writer and had some short stories published by the time she was in her teens. When her first novel was accepted by a publisher, their contract came with the requirement that she cut her manuscript in half. Mom cried off and on while she typed a shortened version over the next two weeks, saying various angry things about Avalon publishers. But once she fought through slicing and dicing that story mom went on to have another 7-8 books published. A copy of her first book, “The Sea People” © Avalon Books 1959 sits proudly on my bookshelf next to a few others.

Did mom ever become a famous writer? Well, other than working as an instructor for “The Famous Writer’s School” the short answer is no. But mom was moderately successful, with her fourth book (Sons of the Wolf) published both in the U.S. as well as Germany, Italy and the UK. Whatever our ability level, we who work in words often fall into the trap of elaborating a scene, an idea or a character till only we are in love with our story. But longer is rarely better and less is usually more. Consider the brevity of the parable of the prodigal son. In just 495 words Jesus shares a story that has touched more lives and changed more hearts than all the works of Shakespeare, Twain, and Jane Austin combined. He tells us about a son who left the simple life of a family farm for the glittering complexity of a distant city. There the son lost all that his father had given him and wasted everything he had trying to be somebody important. But the oinking of the pigs soon made it clear that his dream job had ended up being just feeding hogs. There in the pigpen, Jesus tells us that, “He came to himself.” In that single moment of clear thinking, he remembered his father. On the way home, the prodigal son carefully rehearsed a list of apologies and explanations, but on his arrival, he was immediately interrupted by his joyful father’s welcome. To every one of us who have come home to a childlike faith in Jesus, God gives a story to tell. The less distance we put between the story He gives us and the heart of our neighbor the better. Every story is a pathway to somewhere and the story of grace should be a simple pathway that ends with a Father who is waiting to celebrate our return!

The Doctor is In

The prodigal’s return reunited him not only with his father but also with his brother. In the same way as we turn our hearts to seek God’s grace as a nation there will be a restoration of relationships both with God and each other. This cross always unites God’s people from every race, because we all have the same father. It heals division because religion separates but true relationship with Jesus Christ restores. The cross heals but until we recognize how desperately sick with materialism and selfishness we have become we will never get past the waiting room of God’s spiritual health clinic. The doctor is in. He is waiting for us. The question is will we come to Him today.