On My Porch Steps

I sat down on my porch steps with my computer. I needed to finish some work, and the weather was beautiful. This seemed like the perfect place.

A woman’s voice started rapid, angry conversation somewhere on the street in a nearby house. I couldn’t understand a word, but the mood was clear. Angry, agonized, pained. Continuous. Maybe it was less than two minutes. I was sure it was going on forever.

I never heard another voice. Maybe she was on the phone. Should I go back in the house?

Cars continued to drive down the street, not braking or speeding up, just moving on to wherever they intended to go.

Birds kept on singing, clear. Pure. Beautiful.

Nothing seemed to be affected by the unhappiness of the woman except her—and me. I gritted my teeth and sat on. And prayed for her. I don’t know what words I said, but I meant it. I prayed with anguish and sincerity.

"Help Us Have a Fun Rest of the Day"

“Dear God, please help us have fun.”

This is a prayer we’ve taught our children since they were tiny.

We said, “Have fun” about everything—school, trips, all kinds of activities. I told them to have fun when they were taking big tests. I said it when they were going to the doctor.

They learned it well. For years, when the kids prayed at mealtime, they’d finish with, “Help us to have fun for the rest of the day.” Is that all I’ve taught my kids?

Truly, I think this is a good thing. We didn’t want them to be frightened or worried.

We are to have joy as Christians. Laughter is good medicine. We can’t be good witnesses for Christ by being glum-faced.

Proverbs 17:22: A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

So when my kids start a new job, I tell them to have fun as they walk out the door. When they’re doing something unknown or scary, I tell them to have a good time.

It’s good medicine for me too.

When Rebecca moved to another state to start her job, I told her to have fun, even while I was trying not to cry. When Benjamin moves to the dorm this fall, I’m sure I’ll say, “Have some fun,” again fighting the pain in my own heart.

No, I’m not sorry for putting the idea of fun into their heads. We have so many things to be nervous about, to be sad about, many problems and difficulties to climb in life. So let’s strive to have fun any time we can.

Philippians 4:4: Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!

Prodigal Father

God is a prodigal father.

A year ago on Father’s Day, we walked into Prodigal Church in Lakewood for the first time. They caught Murray’s attention by promising a free cigar to the first ten fathers. He doesn’t smoke cigars, but he thought it was a catchy draw.

We have loved the church. They stress God’s overwhelming love for hurting people, often referring to the story of “The Prodigal Son” in Luke 15.

But Murray and I both decided to look up prodigal the second time we heard them refer to God as “The Prodigal Father.”

We weren’t sure about that. Our idea of prodigal was of the younger son, wasting his father’s money with sinful living, then finding his way back home.

I looked up prodigal on dictionary.com. This is what I found.

Prodigal

1.

wastefully or recklessly extravagant:

Prodigal expenditure.

2.

giving or yielding profusely; lavish (usually followed by of or with):

Prodigal of smiles; prodigal with money.

3.

lavishly abundant; profuse:

nature's prodigal resources.

Number one seemed to relate to what I expected. The younger son was wasteful, reckless.

But I had to admit, the other listings pointed to the love God shows us: giving or yielding profusely; lavishly abundant.

The father in Luke 15, a picture of God, showed lavish and profuse love to both his lost sons.

He was watching for his younger son, the one who had taken his money and gone away to waste it. He was watching for him and ran to embrace him when he finally came home.

To think of God loving me this way almost brings tears to my crusty old heart.

This son had treated his father as though he wished he was dead. That is a good picture of how hatefully I’ve treated God with the sin in my life.

But Luke says the father had compassion on his son. I looked up compassion on dictionary.com.

Compassion

a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.

That certainly explains how God has treated us. Because of his sorrow for our suffering, he yielded himself lavishly and abundantly to alleviate our pain.

Yes, God is a prodigal father.

Luke 15:20: So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

Romans 5: 8: But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us