Still scratching our heads.
- Get link
- Other Apps
I think it was four, maybe five years ago we were visiting family in Tennessee. We out-of-towners were staying at a nice hotel in town. Our oldest son was in his grand-parents room so there were only six of us in our room.
I remember suddenly waking up one night and realizing the bed of youngest daughter was empty. She would have been only five or six then. We found her down the hall, asleep behind a tree near the elevator. She had somehow in her sleep-walk managed to walk right by our bed, undo three locks and wander down the hall.
I never heard a blamed thing.
And every time we travel with the kids, my wife moves furniture in front of the hotel door.
The latest turn is that my prodigal daughter has alienated her friends and has now ditched them as well. For some reason she has decided to leave her friends and, well, rest assured that we know where she is: physically, safe; spiritually, prayed for.
What does a parent do but review everything, looking and asking, "where did I go wrong that my child feels they have to do things like this?" We just can't figure it out. I think it has more to do with sibling rivalry than anything else. I've actually made conscious efforts to belay this among children and in my own parenting; nevertheless, it still happens, right? But sometimes, sibling rivalry can be fed by others, even the church. "Why can't you be more like your sister?"
My oldest son asked the right question the other day: "what do we do if and when she comes back home?" I reminded him of that story Jesus told of the Prodigal Son. Making him tell me the story was good for both of us. When he finished, I said, "that's how she will be received."
But one thought will not go away, and further questions of my own develop. "What happened the next day and the next week, and the following month around that house Jesus spoke of?"
What did they say to each other?
How did they work through their stuff?
What kind of counseling would they have received?
Biblical counsel would have looked like . . . what in that day?
There was only one nouthetic Rabbi right now. What would have been Jesus' counsel to them from scripture?
What would Jesus say to the Prodigal?
What would Jesus say to the brother?
What would Jesus say to the father and the mother?
What instructions would the servants receive?
I know the context of the passage and I know the point of the story; however, if situations like ours drive folks to look at passages Luke 15 for hope, then how do we carry it through to resolution. The story ends with the point Jesus makes . . . or does it?
I actually think I have an idea about what He would say . . . I'll let you know.
I remember suddenly waking up one night and realizing the bed of youngest daughter was empty. She would have been only five or six then. We found her down the hall, asleep behind a tree near the elevator. She had somehow in her sleep-walk managed to walk right by our bed, undo three locks and wander down the hall.
I never heard a blamed thing.
And every time we travel with the kids, my wife moves furniture in front of the hotel door.
The latest turn is that my prodigal daughter has alienated her friends and has now ditched them as well. For some reason she has decided to leave her friends and, well, rest assured that we know where she is: physically, safe; spiritually, prayed for.
What does a parent do but review everything, looking and asking, "where did I go wrong that my child feels they have to do things like this?" We just can't figure it out. I think it has more to do with sibling rivalry than anything else. I've actually made conscious efforts to belay this among children and in my own parenting; nevertheless, it still happens, right? But sometimes, sibling rivalry can be fed by others, even the church. "Why can't you be more like your sister?"
My oldest son asked the right question the other day: "what do we do if and when she comes back home?" I reminded him of that story Jesus told of the Prodigal Son. Making him tell me the story was good for both of us. When he finished, I said, "that's how she will be received."
But one thought will not go away, and further questions of my own develop. "What happened the next day and the next week, and the following month around that house Jesus spoke of?"
What did they say to each other?
How did they work through their stuff?
What kind of counseling would they have received?
Biblical counsel would have looked like . . . what in that day?
There was only one nouthetic Rabbi right now. What would have been Jesus' counsel to them from scripture?
What would Jesus say to the Prodigal?
What would Jesus say to the brother?
What would Jesus say to the father and the mother?
What instructions would the servants receive?
I know the context of the passage and I know the point of the story; however, if situations like ours drive folks to look at passages Luke 15 for hope, then how do we carry it through to resolution. The story ends with the point Jesus makes . . . or does it?
I actually think I have an idea about what He would say . . . I'll let you know.
Popular posts from this blog
“Men and women who saw God in the Bible: Why did they not all die?”
July 2004 I went to Kenya, Africa to speak in two Pastor’s Conferences on the subject of Man, Sin and Salvation. At the end of each day I left just over an hour for questions (half the time were questions touching the subject of my lectures, and the other half for “open questions”; that is, people could ask anything). For the next few weeks, I will be sharing the questions that were asked of me, and my answers—and believe me when I say these people really know how to think! Question from Kenya #1: “Men and women who saw God in the Bible: Why did they not all die?” [“ But He said, ‘You cannot see My face, for no man can see Me and live! ’” (Exodus 33:20) was the basis of the student’s question]. Answer: First, consider those who did see God—how did they respond when they saw Him? They were instantly aware of their sinfulness, and God’s holiness and righteousness (to name a few. And notice also that each responded in an attitude of worship, bowing down): Abraham built altars, wors
A Sonnet
“My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth poetry Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not sonnets made of thee? and lays Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight? Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the fame, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name! Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that, which one day, worms may chance refuse. Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the earth, so doth thy Majesty: Each cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use. Roses and lilies speak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Wh
Welcome, May!
The past few weeks have been stressful. Training new employees, dealing with difficult customers, not sleeping well, not exercising (I’ve gained 20 pounds in the last two years), getting through family drama (two life-threatening events in the same day, 2000 miles apart: my dad’s heart attack in NM and a 9 year grandchild starting the rest of his life with Type 1 Diabetes) . . . My CrossFit lifestyle withered into oblivion when I lost my job at the University in 2020, as Covid got going. Deep depression brought me to a standstill as I took a few months to try to reset. Since then, my physical status has been on steady decline. Now my daily schedule looks something like this: Work 3-11 pm (on a good day), Go to bed at 4 am, get up between 10:30 am and noon, get booted up and go back to work. If I get one day off a week I’m fortunate. At least I don’t have to work all night for now. That was the worst. So I haven’t had time or energy to do much, even read, much less write. And since my