Lead, follow; just get out of God's way

I like to fix things. When I encounter a situation where hearts are broken, I want to restore them. This is not a bad thing.

However, this desire to set things to right has gotten me into trouble more than once over the course of my life, which shouldn't surprise anyone who knows me.

My first attempt at reconciliation happened when I was 9. My family was falling apart. With the mind of a 9-year-old, I sought to make it right.

A family meeting had been called. I don't remember the conversation, but the gist of it was there was going to be a separation. Months earlier my mom had alerted us to the strong possibility that we would be taking the train to Iowa. She cautioned me that when that day came, I would be responsible for Danett, then 2. Danett had a good case of the terrible twos and was slippery as well. I remember the nightmare I had shortly thereafter. Mom had warned us that the train didn't stay in the station very long so we had to be quick about boarding. In the nightmare, slippery Danett had slipped away from me. I chased after her and just as I caught her and turned back, all I could see was the back of the train, pulling out of the station, leaving the two of us behind. It was a horrifying dream.

Fast forward to the summer day in Denver when the family was to be torn asunder. Dad made the mistake of asking if any us of had anything to say and I piped up with "Families aren't supposed to be like this," or some such statement about getting along, sticking together, etc. Dad was not impressed and immediately accused me of lying or of being influenced by someone else to say such a thing. The talk of separation, which did ultimately happen, ended for that day.

I later learned that the root of the family trouble was marital infidelity, so it is small wonder that my attempt at reconciliation failed, and although Mom and Dad did eventually reconcile, however, their relationship was forever changed.

It wasn't the last time I would try to play peacemaker, in my family of origin or elsewhere.

Comes a time, however, when you have to learn to get out of the way. The lesson comes hard and at a high price, with several refresher courses required even after the lesson should have been well and truly learned, completely integrated into the heart.

It wasn't until after I discovered that getting out of the way meant getting out of God's way, that I was able to more easily retreat from my meddling, my well-intended but useless advisements.

In other words, I finally learned another lesson to be taken from the parable of the prodigal son.

I'm beginning to understand just how hard it was for the father to let the son depart. Surely, in every fiber of his being, he longed to chase after the son, to talk until he was blue in the face (and perhaps he did, though Scripture doesn't record it), to change his son's mind. I'm sure he at least tried. It's what parents do. But the son's mind was made up and off he went. And the father had to admit defeat and let him go.

When the father finally let him go, when he finally came to the end of his power and influence in his son's life, only then was our Father able to work in the son's life, to bring him to a desperate place, a place where he was willing to acknowledge that his path led to destruction, not freedom.

As for the son, once freed of his father's will, he discovered that every decision after that one, was his alone and he was responsible for it. Undoubtedly, the knowledge of his freedom to choose, led him to make the choice to return, humbled and obedient.

Not every prodigal wastes his inheritance in wild living, after demanding his inheritance and stomping away, rebellion against the status quo fueling every step. Some just wander away, unaware that they're even wandering, until they wake up and discover that they are nowhere near where they thought they thought they ought to be. Busy schedules, neglect, even careless words have moved them far from the path they thought they were traveling. Does every prodigal return? Is the passage in Proverbs 22:6 "Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it," a promise? And if so, what does that mean for the child's free will, once grown? The parental responsibility is clear. The proverb indeed is one of great wisdom. The desired outcome, though preferable, is not guaranteed.

Whatever the case, if you find yourself in the position of the father, stand faithfully by the gate, so that even from far off, you may see your son, alive again, restored.

"'For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate." Luke 15:24 NIV