I almost cannot keep up with the miraculous doings of Jehovah Sneaky.
Rachel and Caleb arrived on Friday AM. Unbelievable! I have the photos to prove it, though.
It was (as the Lord correctly and gently reminded me) a fulfillment to the prayer I prayed so many times, I gave up praying it any more, believing that the answer was "no". Malachi 4:6--"Turn the hearts of the fathers toward the children and the hearts of the children to the fathers".
As I sat weeping in church, at Lynn and Darrin's wedding, overcome by His goodness in soooo many areas of my life, in so many areas of soooo many lives, He reminded me of my prayer of old and of the fact that Rachel and Caleb were in our home and He said quietly, "Fulfilled today".
He also said that same statement about the wedding/marriage verse He gave me years ago in Deuteronomy Chapter 8--"Fulfilled today", He said simply (and truthfully!).
I am humbled, amazed and most often (and unusually), speechless over all of this. It is holy and unexpected and undeserved.
For the first time, I am a prodigal. I have thought all along, since my conversion at age 30, that I was a prodigal. I felt like the younger brother; I had been living large, self-reliant, and before finally coming to my senses and returning home to my Father.
But, nooooooo. I was never a prodigal *before*, since I had never been a child of God, prior to that point. You can't leave a home, a family, a Father that you've never belonged to. You can't return, if you've never left.
But oh, how I left this past year. I left my Father's home, rolled around in my misery and confusion and ate a lot of slop, intended for hogs. I am now in the phase of coming to my senses and rehearsing my apology. Feeling really insecure and not at all worthy of being forgiven, loved, showered with acceptance.
I do not think that I have yet experienced the moment when "God Ran", as I have not yet taken my eyes totally off myself. I will have to look up, to catch my first glimpses of my Omnipotnet, All Powerful, Omnipresent, Holy Papa running to me. I will have to look up from my dusty sandals, quit rehearsing my excuses and defenses and process the sight of my God, running to me.
Running. To. Me.
We read of the older son's response to his Father's exhuberant welcome for his younger son...bitterness. This is the topic of many sermons, from many pastors' pulpits.
Are there any writings that project what the response of the younger son is to the Father's welcome? Is he sheepish? Relieved? Prideful? Defensive? Rejecting?
I have been all of these and more, I am afraid. I will find it difficult to simply accept the love, forgiveness and compassion from PapaGod. I hope He can forgive, even that.