Wilderness Journey

Another door closed for us this week. I apologize for the impersonal fb post, but I know a lot of you have been praying and walking with us, and I didn’t want to miss anyone.

We continue to journey through a wilderness time of our lives that began in June. I know enduring a wilderness time, one will either mature and learn or disintegrate. We have learned a great deal about God, our family, myself, and life in this time. I must also say I am weary and tired. I identify with Israel as they journeyed through the wilderness and wondered why God would do this. I know the feeling of desperation to hear from Him. I know the sense of silence on the other end. I know the questions which ambush the heart and mind regarding your identity, your value, your calling, your talents, your gifts.

I know the psalmist’s indignant prayer to “ANSWER ME, my God!” I know how to wonder how long will He stay silent. I know how, with Job, to hold on to the integrity of my heart while coming toe to toe with my God in prayer. I also know how to trust and say, ‘surely goodness will follow me all the days of my life.’ I know God is good. I know he works all things for my good, and He will do so.

Thank you so much family and friends for your prayers and encouragement. They give me strength for the long haul. God is good to me! You are proof of this.

Celebrate the prodigal too quickly

I thought some more about the prodigal today.  I have read and heard that story on countless occasions.  As a child who longs for grace, unconditional Agape love, I cheer, with all Christians, for the prodigal and his father.  We never grow tired of hearing this parable, and we cheer with delight in our hearts at the sight of the fathers unconditional embrace and the prodigal’s humility.  We imagine the prodigal’s poverty and leap for joy at the prodigal’s humble return.  We see the prodigal lag his way home and watch the Father run to his battered and poor son.  We go on the Father’s joyful demand to get IPA and T-bone steaks with excellent joy for the prodigal’s return.  We read with great joy.  We cheer for the prodigal.

We live like the older brother.  When the story is read and enjoyed, I walk past drunken homeless people on the streets.  After the thrilling STORY is over, I get pissed off at the people around me.  I weep for joy at the prodigal’s return home to loving arms, and then I write a scathing status update to someone.  I get all caught up in the greatest PLOT of grace and unconditional love ever uttered or written, and I have the hardest time accepting continued mistakes and life patterns in my own family members.

I work hard to be the best Christian I can be for crying out loud, and here are all these people around me who aren’t even trying. Here are all those people who do not understand that I am a Christian who wants to be all I can be, and they just go on like it doesn’t make a difference.  I believe in a God of unconditional love and grace and I loath the congregations who don’t get it right.  I am the prodigal here…not them!

Right?

It is not just a parable.  It is not just a fictional thriller to read and put back on the shelf until the next time.  It is a story that serves as a humbling reflection of the reality we live every day.  Like every parable, it is easy to associate myself with the good guy, the hero, but I can ALWAYS equally associate myself with the villian.

My heart breaks when I realize I cheer for the prodigal and live like the older brother.