A man had two
sons. They both
worked in the
family
business. The
older son being
conscientious
accepted his
share of
responsibility,
but the younger
one got bored
with his
hometown; and
wanderlust lured
him to seek
greener
pastures. His
father agreed to
release him,
divided his
estate between
his sons and
gave him his
share which was
liquidated and
applied to
travel expenses
as he went in
search of a new
adventure.
It was an
exciting life—at
first, until his
money ran out
and his friends
ran off. He
couldn’t find
employment as he
had no work
references since
he left his
father’s place.
Hunger finally
won out, and he
accepted the
menial task of
“slopping hogs,”
a degrading and
religiously
unlawful job for
a Jewish man.
None of his
friends came to
his rescue; he
was in the pits,
alone. He
looked at the
hogs’ trough,
his stomach
growled at its
empty condition,
he considered
eating with the
hogs; when it
hit him—“The
servants at my
father’s house
have wonderful
food, and I am
about to perish
because of lack
of it. I wonder
how the hogs’
food would taste
to a starving
man?”
His epiphany led
him humbly back
to his father’s
house in
repentance,
expecting to be
nothing more
than a hired
servant. Much
to his surprise,
his father met
him with open
arms and
immediately
clothed him, put
shoes on his
feet, put the
family crest
ring on his
finger and led
him to the
banquet hall
where a feast
was spread in
his honor.
You recognize
the story, don’t
you? It’s the
prodigal son of
Luke 15.
“And when he
came to himself,
he said, How
many hired
servants of MY
FATHER’S
[emphasis mine]
have
bread enough and
to spare, and I
perish with
hunger!” I will
arise and go to
MY FATHER
[emphasis mine],
and will say
unto him,
‘FATHER
[emphasis mine],
I have sinned
against heaven,
and before thee’
” (Luke 15:17,
18).
By “common
sense”
standards, the
young man should
have been
vilified for
having wasting
his inheritance
and cast out to
fend for
himself. He had
it coming! But
the father’s
love for his son
resulted in
great rejoicing
that the wayward
one had returned
home. He
considered his
son as one who
had been
resurrected from
the dead, and
put his
household on
alert to prepare
a banquet to
celebrate and
honor him.
The heart of the
story is found
in verses 17 and
18: “I will
arise and go to
MY FATHER…” In
spite of the
debauchery the
son had fallen
into, when he
thought of home,
he knew his dad
was still “my
father.” The
father was
reciprocal,
because he still
referred to the
rag-tag man
coming down the
road toward home
as “my son.”
Of course we
know that this
parable was
representative
of the
unconditional
love of God
toward fallen
mankind.
“He’s still my
Father,” even
when I veer from
His presence,
when life falls
at my feet in
shambles because
I didn’t fully
trust Him, when
I listen to
wrong voices and
follow bad
advice and no
matter how far
from home I am.
Peter, big and
bold, declared
that he would
never deny His
Lord even if
everyone else
did. He thought
he knew himself
when he declared
his undying
loyalty, but
Jesus knew the
time would come
when Peter would
utterly fail.
The love in the
eyes of Jesus
when He looked
deeply into the
eyes and heart
of Peter, caused
him to know that
the God Jesus
had taught them
about was still
“my Father!”
When David was
anointed King of
Israel, he
didn’t suspect
the time would
come when he
would bring
shame upon his
name and his
kingdom and
death to his
son. When he
ordered the
death of Uriah
in order to
claim his wife,
David thought he
could hide the
sin under cover
and no one would
know. When he
“came to
himself” like
the prodigal
son, he saw how
far he had
wandered from
God; but his
broken heart and
contrite spirit
cried, “He’s
still my
Father!”
David prayed
after Nathan
confronted him
with his sin:
“Purge
me with hyssop,
and I shall be
clean: wash me,
and I shall be
whiter than
snow” (Psalm
51:7).
That’s the
prayer of a man
who knew, “He’s
still my
Father.”
Abraham went
along with
Sarah’s plan to
execute their
own plan when it
appeared that
God’s had
failed. The
promised son had
not been born,
and they were
getting on in
years. Sarah’s
maid, Hagar,
bore Abraham a
son whom he
named Ishmael;
and he was sure
that their plan
would install
this son as the
legal heir that
God had
promised. When
the Lord later
visited Sarah
and opened her
womb to conceive
Isaac they
realized they
had acted
outside God’s
will. God could
have decided
they had foiled
His plan and He
would just find
someone else to
create the
nation of
Israel. No,
Abraham would
look at Isaac
and remember the
faithfulness of
God and say,
“He’s still my
Father!”
“He hath not
dealt with us
after our sins;
nor rewarded us
according to our
iniquities”
(Psalm 103:10)
Of course there
are consequences
when we go our
own way and fail
to heed the
wooing of the
Holy Spirit, and
they may bring
us pain. All
our actions have
consequences,
some good and
some bad. We
need to discern
that there are
natural
consequences as
a result of our
decisions and
actions, even
though the
long-suffering,
unconditional
love of God is
in effect. We
sometimes blame
God (or even the
devil) for
consequences
that we
created. The
natural
consequences do
not cancel God’s
love; and in the
midst of
suffering them,
we can say,
“He’s still my
father!”
No, He doesn’t
deal with us
according to our
“due,” after our
sin nor reward
us according to
our iniquities
(Psalm 103:10).
If He did, we
would be
disowned,
not legitimate
children of God
(Hebrews 12:8).
“As far as the
east is from the
west, so far
hath he removed
our
transgressions
from us. Like
as a father
piteth his
children, so the
LORD pitieth
them that fear
him” (Psalm
103:11-12)
“He’s still my
Father!”
If our failures
mean rejection
by our Father,
God is going to
have a very
small family!
The prodigal son
knew he had a
father; he just
didn’t know the
scope of his
powerful love
when he decided
to go back
home. He only
discovered it
when he got
there.
Certainly, the
Holy Spirit is
grieved when we
fail; but where
sin abounds,
that’s where
God’s grace
increases
(Romans 5:20).
God, like the
father in Jesus'
story, is
waiting for us
to "come home."
When we deal
with others who
have fallen, we
need to be more
loving and less
critical when
they need
rescuing. They
need a lifeline,
not a billy-club.
They need a
brother/sister
who recognizes
them even in the
fog or the muddy
pig pen who will
call to them and
say, “He’s still
your Father!”
I am not
theologically
smart enough to
know when/if God
is ready to cut
the safety line
of one who is
climbing a
treacherous
mountain,
slipping and
sliding, about
to disappear
over the edge.
But I do believe
it is much, much
harder for God
to lose us than
some folks think
it is.
When the world
looks down on
you and
there is no one
to help, remember
you can look up
and say,
“He’s still my
Father!”
When you look up
the road, you
will see your Father
running to meet
you and hear Him say,
“Welcome home,
my child; I
love you.”
If you have
wandered away
from home, just
remember:
A loving Father
is waiting for
your return!
“That Christ may
dwell in your
hearts by faith:
that ye being
rooted and
grounded in
love, May be
able to
comprehend with
all saints what
is the breadth,
and length, and
depth, and
height; And to
know the love of
Christ, which
passeth
knowledge, that
ye might be
filled with all
the fullness of
God” (Ephesians
3:17-19).
Have you thought
about this? God
gave us to
Jesus!
“I give unto
them eternal
life; and they
shall never
perish, ….My
Father, which
gave them me,
[emphasis mine]
is greater than
all…” (John
10:28-29).
God would never
give Jesus
“junk”!
God fills the
lowest times in
our lives with
His “living
water.” Water’s
characteristic
seeks the lowest
level. At our
lowest point,
healing waters
will flow into
our deepest
need.
Never try to
make your
experience a
principal for
others, but
allow God to be
as creative or
original with
others as He is
with you.
……..Oswald
Chambers
God deals with
each of us
uniquely.
Though you are
different from
me, we both can
say,
“He’s still
my Father -- and
yours!”
~~Delores~~
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