|
A
Boy After His Father's Own Hand
Growing
up, my family frequently took the once traditional driving vacation in
summer. The four of us—me, mom, dad, sis—loaded into the Olds and took
off across the country. Each year we went the same direction—away.
Since the car didn’t have A/C we
looked forward to stopping at a Stuckey’s or any other tourist trap site to cool
off and de-stickify ourselves. And every motel we stayed in had to have a
pool—that was my requirement.
One summer we stopped to explore
the wonders of a cavern called Cave of the Winds located in Manitou Springs,
Colorado. The signs promised that "whatever the temperature outside, it’s always
a comfortable 54 degrees inside."
When you’re inside a car with
vinyl upholstery, no air conditioning, two kids who love to pick on each other,
and it’s 80+ outside, dad didn’t need to use curiosity as an excuse to stop. The
promise of time spent in the cool got everyone’s attention.
The tour was cool, totally cool,
taking us deep into the heart of the earth. The huge rising stalagmites and
hanging stalactites were awesome, especially as they were enhanced by colorful
and dramatic lighting. Every twist and turn of the path brought appreciative
ooohs and aaahs.
At one point during the tour, to
give us a full appreciation of how dark a cave really was, the lights were
turned off. We were instructed to take the hands of companions, parents, and
children, and not to move an inch. The lights went out and it truly was The Big
Dark!
Being the "proud little man" that
I was, I pulled free of dad’s hand to scratch my nose and shift my feet a bit,
turning around trying to see in the darkness—just for a second. I was brave—just
for second. Then I reached for the comfort of a hand again.
When the lights came on I quickly
sensed something was wrong. I was horrified to discover that I wasn’t holding my
dad’s hand. It was the hand of a stranger and dad was nowhere immediately
visible. Actually, he was only a few feet away—but there were a lot of other
feet, legs, and adult bodies towering between me and him, and I was only about
four feet tall! To me, a wee kid, he may as well have been eons away.
That moment—and it was in reality
only a moment before dad reclaimed me—gave rise to terror, confusion,
bewilderment, remorse, regret, and a rush of other emotions. I was stunned that
my momentary letting go of dad’s hand had put me at terrible risk and at such
distance from him so quickly.
David, who spent some time in
caves, is a fascinating biblical character for a lot of reasons. What I find
most amazing is what’s said of him by God: "After removing Saul, [God] made
David their king. [God] testified concerning him: ‘I have found David son of
Jesse a man after my own heart; he will do everything I want him to do.’" (Acts
13:20-22).
God says David is "a man after my
own heart; he will do everything I want him to do." Does that mean David never
made a mistake? Not at all. We’ve got nearly the whole scoop on his failures and
misdeeds in the Old Testament. David did all God wanted him to do, and a few He
didn’t. Some of those things were tragic. Yet, through it all, David still was a
man after God’s own heart. As a deer pants after the water, so David’s soul
longed and sought after God relentlessly, through success and failure, through
blessings and woes. So it should be with us and our relationship to our heavenly
Father.
How many times each day throughout
our busy weeks and months do we play the proud Prodigal and do our own “brave”
thing? Each decision—insignificant or momentous—gives us the opportunity to hang
on to God’s hand in utter dependence, or let go and go our own way to never good
consequences. When we come to our senses, the distance between us and God feels
like a boundless chasm of guilt, shame, and regret. Yet, the reality is that He
never is very far away at all.
Going through life can be like
walking through an unfamiliar room lit with a strobe light—or one where someone
is constantly turning the lights on and off. We confront people and situations
which bring both darkness and light. It can be disorienting and exhausting. Our
ultimate goal is to get from one side of the room to the other in one piece—to
move through our lives holy and preserved. But there are a gazillion unseen
hazards seeking our hurt.
The constant and disorienting
moving from light to dark to light to dark forces us to press on in faith
because we can’t always see clearly where we’re going or what’s in front of us.
As with David, our hearts long after and draw us toward God, yet there are
moments our self lets go of His hand and we do those things He never intended
for us to do. We end up standing in the dark holding the wrong hand.
In the cave, when the lights came
up and I realized my situation, you could say that I became a boy hard after my
dad’s own hand! While in my tiny act of rebellious independence I’d let go, I
was still my father’s son and coveted his protection and care. My hand was in
another’s, but my heart belonged to my dad. So it is even now. Our lives become
flawed by sin, yet we’re still people after God’s own heart. The stains of sin
are not indelible when washed in His blood.
With Paul, we can say, "I do not
consider myself yet to have taken hold of [perfection]. But one thing I do:
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward
the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ
Jesus" (Philippians 3:13-14).
God is loving, faithful, and
patient. When we pull away, He’ll let us go. When we wake up to our folly, His
hand is always right there, open, reaching toward us. But better yet, why even
pull away at all? There’s nothing wimpy about dependence on God. Real men and
women aren’t afraid to be seen holding His hand.
|
