I wrote this a couple of months ago, and thought that I would share it with you now:
I am reading The Father Heart of God, by Floyd McClung Jr. As I near the end of the book, McClung mentions the Biblical story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). The son asks his father for his inheritance, then leaves and blows his money. After losing everything, he hires himself out, and he becomes so hungry that even the slop that he feeds pigs looks good. He finally returns to his father, expecting to become his servant, but instead his father welcomes him with open arms.
I thought of how much the father must have missed his son. I wondered what the father went through while his son was away, and I was inspired to write a letter from the viewpoint of the father to his prodigal son.
[Granted, I have no children and certainly have no experience being a father (as I am a girl...), but this is my take on a daddy's heart.]
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Come home, my son, come home. Your mother cries for you every night. I try to comfort her, but I can barely console myself.
Son, I remember the very first step you took. It may seem like a small thing to you, but I told everyone I met how my son could walk-whether they wanted to know or not. I may have embarrassed your mom a time or two. I was thinking of those first steps the day you last walked out the door.
My son. My son. Don’t you realize that I would do anything for you? When I first held you in my arms, all I could do was stare at your perfect face in wonder. I vowed to watch over you. I vowed to be the best father I could be, and to love you with everything that I am. I still honor that vow. I have only ever wanted the very best for you.
Come home, my son, come home. The house feels empty without you. I have felt empty without you. You are a part of me, and it goes beyond our physical DNA. Our souls share a bond that we have with no other. Please, do not sever this bond.
Come home, my son, come home. What more can I say to change your mind? I will not force you; no, I love you too much for that. I cannot make you return home, and neither can I make you love me. That would be a lie. You don’t have to pretend with me, son. That’s why I let you go. Your value to me is without measure, so I cannot hold you against your will. Love comes with a cost. I knew that in giving you my heart, I risked allowing you to break it. Yet I am willing to pay this cost if there is even the slightest chance that you will return my love of your own free will. Even if you never do, you are worth the price.
Come home, my son, come home. I am waiting for you.
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This is the father heart of God. McClung writes many good things concerning my role as God’s daughter, and the steps I aught to take to keep my heart right before Him. I intend to follow McClung’s advice, yet probably the most important thing that I have gleaned from this book is that I aught to look at God’s perspective. God does, indeed, have a father’s heart. He loves me. He wants a meaningful relationship with me. He wants me to stop merely writing about His love and fully accept this truth in my heart. This is truth. God is love (1John 4:8&16). His kindness leads us to repentance, and we repent so that nothing stands between us and a love relationship with Him.
Thank You, Lord, for Your incredible Father-heart of love.
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