Hey! Is anybody still here? It has been nearly a year and a half since I last posted. I’ve been wanting to get back into it for quite a while, but lots of things have kept me from it. (I know, excuses, excuses!)
Anyway, the following is something I wrote on the occasion of our recent Father’s Day. Originally, I wrote it for the monthly newsletter I edit for our church, then also posted it on Facebook. Some of you may have seen it there. Regardless, it occurred to me that this would be a good opportunity to re-start the engine for this blog–and possibly the podcast, too.
So, here’s the story. I pray you will be blessed.
Loren
There is a moment from my youth that haunts me.
One evening, when I was about sixteen, I had a huge fight with my father. I’ll spare you the terrible details, but, trust me, it was ugly-bad in real life. In the heat of anger I said things I have regretted for over 60 years. Yes, I have confessed my sin to God and have accepted His forgiveness, but the emotional pain of that incident lingers still. Periodically, I feel overwhelming guilt which could easily disrupt and destroy my spiritual peace.
Except for one thing.
Daddy was gone by the time I woke up the next morning. He had done all the morning chores early before leaving in his truck. When I came home from school he still wasn’t home, but in the middle of my evening chores he drove into the yard. I didn’t know what to expect, so when he stepped down from the cab, I greeted him with a silly, flippant remark.
He didn’t say a word in response. He just walked over to me and began sharing his heart. He said he’d been to the auction yard, and had sat there all day thinking about what happened that night. Remorse filled his voice, and tears were in his eyes as he choked out the words, “I’ll never lift a hand against you ever again, son. Whatever you decide for your life, I will never oppose you.”
My father was rough-cut in many ways. A tough-as-nails rodeo cowboy, US Marine, and an old-school Western horseman whose language was never eloquent and often filled with profanity. Yet, in that sacred moment, his love for me—the youngest of his four children—expressed itself in words that human language could never employ.
It was an unforgettable milestone.
Recently, I realized something about this whole sad event that I never understood until now. Here it is: My father came to me to offer peace and seek reconciliation.
Picture now the scene described in Genesis, chapter 3 in the Garden of Eden.
Disobedience has opened the doors to evil such as Adam and Eve have never known. But, they are guilty, and they know it. They cower in fear hiding behind bushes, desperately trying to cover their nakedness with fig leaves. God said they would die if they ate that fruit. And they hear His voice,
“Adam, where are you?”
They don’t know it yet, but Father God has come to offer peace, forgiveness, salvation, and reconciliation.
The Father comes seeking them with gifts of love.
Yes, they must leave their beautiful garden home, but as they step into an uncertain future, they wear skins of grace upon their shoulders and a promise of eternal reconciliation in their hearts.
Calvary was the fulfillment of God’s promise.
Reconciliation—peace with God—is the new reality of
Father God’s relationship with all his children!
“All of this is a gift from God, who brought us back to
himself through Christ. And God has given us this task of
reconciling people to him. For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself, no longer counting people’s sins against them. And he gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation. So we are Christ’s ambassadors” (2 Corinthians 5:18-20 NLT).
On a personal note, I end with this pithy counsel from King Solomon, the Bible’s wisest man:
“Fools make fun of guilt, but the godly acknowledge it and seek reconciliation” (Proverbs 14:9 NLT).
There is no greater sense of well-being than peace with
God found only at Calvary.
Eternal.
Peace.
Shalom!
GoodlifeNews! 