We have just celebrated another Resurrection Sunday, and in our fellowship, as I'm sure it was in yours, it was a beautiful time of giving glory to the Father for His Risen Son. It puts me in mind of seeing Him as the Lord who came, the Lord who lives, the Lord who died for us, and the Lord who rose and lives forever. It also puts me in mind of the Father, who gave us His Son. Jesus said that "He who has seen Me, has seen the Father."
The wonderful writer Chris Tiegreen, in one of his devotionals, dealing with the Prodigal Son, gives a picture of Father God as, "the God who waits, the God who runs, and the God who celebrates." I want to explore a bit as to just how He is all of those, and more.
Briefly, the story of the Prodigal Son is that of a rebellious son who demands his inheritance from his father, wastes all of it in riotous living in a distant country, ends up living in a pigsty and eating pig food.
He comes to the end of himself and decides to return home, believing he could no longer be a son, but could be a servant, even rehearsing what he would say to his father. In the actual reaction of his father, we see the heart of God the Father.
He's the God who waits. I, we, cannot begin to understand the patient waiting of God upon we who are rebels by birth. We reject Him, we waste His blessings, and we seek to live as far from Him as we can. Yet all the while, He waits, searching the horizon for the ones His heart longs to see come home to Him. I, a rebel by birth, experienced this first hand. He reached out to me so many times as I wasted my life running from Him. All the while He waited, continuing to reach out for me. He should have given up on me, and on you as well. He never did. He kept waiting and watching, till His grace laid hold of my heart, calling me home.
The God who runs. When the prodigal appeared in the distance, his father ran to meet him. I remember so clearly the Sunday evening in the home I grew up in, living in the midst of the sty I had made for myself, living on a diet of earthly pig food, turning to Him in desperation. His response was immediate. He who had been waiting came running. He met me and swept me into His embrace even before I finished the prayer. He met me, one who smelled of the pigsty, dressed in the filthy rags of my sin. He came running and took me into His love and care.
The God who celebrates. I didn't truly sense it all then, but I have grown to since. He didn't just celebrate my coming home to Him then. Indeed, Scripture says all of heaven rejoices when a lost sinner comes home, but I've learned that the celebration only begins at that moment. It goes on for the rest of our life here and then forever into eternity. A celebration for one who had been His enemy. One who had mocked, blasphemed, even hated. It continues on right now. I rejoice in the celebration today, and look forward eagerly to when I will enter into the celebration in eternity. I am so grateful for the God who waits, who runs, and who celebrates. I've never deserved it and neither have you. May we rejoice in this not just once a year, but in every day of our lives. The God who, in His Son, Jesus Christ, welcomes us home.
Blessings,
Pastor O