Mark Batterson posted this morning that our God follows us, hunts us down and never turns his back on us. It
reminded me of a quote by Simon Tugwell "So long as we imagine that it is we who have to look for God, we must often lose heart. It is the other way about--He is looking for us."
Below is a short article (which became a book) applying that theme to our work with young people.
In my house, the phrase “I’m
gonna get you!” sets off an ecstatic shriek followed by the rapid pitter patter
of little feet doing their best to wobble/run away from me. My son, Max, loves to play chase with
his Da Da. As he’s running away he always turns around to make sure I’m still
following him, which I am—I hope I always will.
But I know that one day, “I’m
gonna get you!” will produce an embarrassed sneer and that once ecstatic shriek
will give way to “Daayaaad, leave me alone!”
Kids inevitably leave
behind original innocence. Childhood games become more sophisticated and their
delights often grow less innocent. In the process, many lose themselves and
stray far from those who love them. I've seen how this takes an
enormous toll on their family and friends.
There is hope to be found in the story of the Prodigal Son. You're familiar with the high points: Boy leaves dad.
Boy gets into trouble. Boy
comes back ready to beg for mercy.
Father takes boy back, makes big brothern jealous, but a happy ending nonetheless.
One of the dangers of
becoming too familiar with the Gospel is that we risk becoming impenetrable to subtle new discoveries. For years I skimmed right over Jesus saying, “While he was
still a long way off, the Father caught sight of him and was filled with
compassion. He ran
to his son, embraced him and kissed him.”
I wish someone would
offer a depiction of this classic story and portray the Father wearing running
shoes. The Father waited, he watched and he
ran.
Most of my life I saw God
as a begrudging innkeeper who tolerated guests who were bold enough to beat the
door down. I am convinced that
this is a prevalent image of God among Christians–a tolerant dad, who allows us
to enter the Inn of Forgiveness and Grace, once he is convinced that we
understand exactly how much we've let him down.
This image of God served me
well for most of my life. It kept
me on the straight and narrow. It kept me safe. But it offers little hope for our universal inability to
deal with shame and brokenness. And I believe it offers
even less to a generation of jaded youth who would rather indefinitely put off
a relationship with God, much less surrender to him.
The Father of Jesus
Christ is a runner.
Even while we
are a long way off, we take hope in the fact that God has been waiting and watching for
us and is lacing up his running shoes to race toward us!
God desires a
relationship with us more than we do with him. He is passionate about this relationship, not because it
keeps things spiritually tidy, but because he desperately loves us.
God loves us even while we are a long
way off of the straight and narrow path. It is difficult to accept
such raw, illogical and unrequited intimacy. It is not the experience of most Christians, and I believe
it is one reason young people find it difficult to relate to
God.
Even when we
have lost hope for our wayward children, we have a sure hope that God has
not! Even when we have lost the
energy and will to run, God is running after them, chasing them and beckoning them
back. Our hope is in the name of the Lord—who wears running shoes!