A weary traveller approaches a farm yard with hesitant steps. Dusk is approaching, but it is still bright enough to see a youthful, though drawn face, covered with dust. Suddenly a cloaked figure seems to appear from the farmyard. He gathers up his robe and starts to run toward the young man. Arms are reaching out to embrace the wayfarer. The long wait is over.
One image of God the Father I love is the figure on the road, watching and waiting until one day he sees the prodigal son coming home and runs out to embrace him. (Luke 15:21). It still chokes me with emotion to know how much God loves us. He stations himself on the road, eagerly watching for our return.
God is so eager to forgive us. It is as simple as turning toward Him. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." And what is His reply? "Today you will be with me in Paradise."
Francis Thompson's poem "The Hound of Heaven" describes how we flee from God, sometimes for years:
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears
I hid from Him,
In the poem Francis runs until he can run no more and then the footsteps of God stop beside him and God reaches out with a caressing hand and says,
Did you not know it is me you are seeking?
Father John Powell tells the true story of a woman who was suicidal. "For many years," she wrote, "I lived an evil life." One day she decided to end it all. She would simply swim out in the ocean until she was exhausted and then let nature do the rest.
As she is walking along the beach she hears a distinct voice inside her head, "Stop, turn around and look down." When she does she sees her footprints washed over and erased by the waves.
She hears the voice again, "Just as you see the waves of the ocean washing away your footprints on the sand, so my love and mercy erased all your past. I am calling you to live and to love, not to die."
Jesus told us the story of the prodigal son to reveal the Father's love. What could be simpler? He longs for us, waits for us. And yet sometimes we are afraid or indifferent. The sacrifice on the cross was not an indifferent act. It was meant for you and for me.
