The story of the prodigal son is ageless, first told by Jesus when he was describing God’s unconditional love for his children. The one thing I love about this story is how it demonstrates God’s love towards us no matter how bad we’ve messed up.

Many times, we misjudge God’s attitude towards us, thinking he’s frustrated, mad or disappointed with us because we’ve messed up or sinned. No, he’s not. Jesus was punished in our place. God no longer sees us in our sin. If we have Christ in our heart, he sees Jesus in us. He sees us righteous and holy. He sees us as his child. We are loving wrapped up in God’s arms and cherished by him.

“God says He will accept us and acquit us—declare us ‘not guilty’—if we trust Jesus Christ to take away our sins. And we all can be saved in this same way, by coming to Christ, no matter who we are or what we have been like” (Romans 3:22 LB).

Today, in Christ, you are acceptable, pleasing and passionately pursued by your Father.

I want to share with you a short film called Long Journey Home. The short, 7-minute film is a modern-day version of the prodigal son.

Disillusioned with the family business, a young man is seduced by life’s pleasures only to find the costs far greater than he realized. Thus begins the Long Journey Home, a story about a father’s unconditional love for his son and a son’s quest for forgiveness.

Please take a moment to watch the short film online. And if you have time, please cast your vote for Long Journey Home. We are wanting to get into Round 2 so that we can then produce a 30 minute film on the topic of Hope.

Please take a moment to share your comments on this blog post so that we can hear your thoughts on the film.

Prayer: Father, there are times I feel like the prodigal son, away from you living my own life. I am sorry. I need you desperately. I know you are running to meet me, because of your unconditional love towards me. Father, help me this week to truly know what it means to be acceptable to you, to know that you love me for who I am, not for what I do.

I love sunsets. A few days ago while returning home from a business trip, I was again overwhelmed at the beauty of a sunset. As the plane began its descent into the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, the sun had just set below the horizon. The bright, blue sky slowly transformed into a deep orange. The beauty of it brought me to tears as I began to ponder the wonder of God.

Staring through that small, oval window, I thought back to other sunsets I had seen in my life. A few of them, I can remember so vividly. As I recalled each of those memorable sunset experiences, I discovered an incredible similarity: the most beautiful sunsets always followed an intense storm.

One evening, during my senior year at college in Austin, a tornado ripped through the area touching down in various parts of the city. We sat in our living room watching the local news, tracking the storm’s movements across the area. Amazingly, the brunt of the storm passed right over us. We could hear the powerful winds outside ripping through trees.

But, the storm passed quickly, and everyone jumped back into the daily grind of things. I, on the other hand, went outside to survey the damage. Tree limbs were broken. Leaves were scattered. The wrath of the winds became obvious.

As I stepped out into the street trying to track the tail-end of the storm, I gazed upon one of the most beautiful sunsets I had ever seen. I quickly ran in and told my friends, “Come look at this!” They were reluctant at first but eventually agreed. Standing there in the street, we stared in awe at the thick thunderheads that were painted purple and orange. It was beautiful!

Our lives are full of storms. Storms of panic and fear. Storms that destroy and discourage. And just like the storms in Texas, these storms of life blow in quickly, doing lots of damage. Other times, they linger creating havoc and chaos. We question “Why, Lord?” We stomp our feet and cry out to God for comfort. Too often, it seems, our answer is painful silence.

Staring at that sunset just a few days ago from the plane, I sensed the still, small voice of the Lord say, “Russ, storms will come. It’s inevitable. But, where the storms destroy, I can rebuild. I can create the most beautiful sunset from any storm that blows into your life.”

You can make it through the storm with God’s help. Trust in him, and remember that God “causes everything to work together for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose for them” (Romans 8:28).

Prayer: Father, while in the storm, it is so hard to see the beauty that can come of it. It just seems too powerful, too overwhelming, too destructive. Give me a glimpse of the sunset you have in mind for this storm. Give me the courage and peace to trust you in this dark hour.

“Daddy?” asked Caleb. “Can we go exercisin’?”

I like to run after work, and there are times when I get home, throw on some jogging clothes and go for a quick run around the block. Most of the time Caleb would ask, “Daddy, are you going exercisin’?” I’d respond, “Yes.”

A few years ago, Caleb wanted to go running. He donned his jogging shorts, a Barney tee shirt and his running shoes. “Let’s go, Daddy!” He was ready to run around the block.

At four years old, his style of running was “unperfected”. He was weaving and stumbling occasionally. But, he was exercising.

As we ran, I’d let him take the lead, and I followed closely behind. When he ran, he would often turn his head to see where I was. In doing so, he would stray off the sidewalk onto someone’s yard, nearly missing a mailbox or a parked car.

As we stopped during one of our frequent breaks, I told Caleb that he should always look forward when he was running. I explained that looking back would cause him to slow down and stray off course.

So, we did a running drill. I told to look at a lamppost off in the distance. “Now, focus on that lamppost. It’s your goal. Don’t look back to see how I’m doing. Just focus on the lamppost.” He agreed, “Okay Daddy.”

With his elbows swinging and his little legs chugging along, he ran straight for the lamppost. Even when I talked to him as he ran, he wouldn’t turn back and look. He ran straight for the lamppost, and a tad bit faster, I might add.

The lesson Caleb learned yesterday is a lesson for us as well. When running this race called life, we should not look back. Whether it’s a haunting past or a chance to eye the competition, looking back can be dangerous. In focusing on our past, we lose sight of the Goal. Looking back slows us down and can stray us dangerously off course. Rather, we should keep our eyes on the lamppost.

“Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (Hebrews 12:1b-3).

Prayer: Lord, help me keep me eyes on the goal. Guard my heart from distractions and the anything that would throw me off course.

A few years ago, my family and I had the wonderful opportunity of spending Christmas in the Swiss Alps. What a blessing it was for us to have this special holiday vacation! Not to mention, the snow was a welcome sight for this Texas family.

In fact, the snow provided for most of our entertainment and recreation. Although we did not do any skiing, we did have lots of snowball fights, made lots of snow angels and, best of all, did lots of sledding.

The trail from Murren to Gimmelwald wasn’t too steep, but the sharp turns–lined with bed cushions–made for an exciting run. The half-hour ride was quickly followed by a gondola ride back to Murren for another run.

Being new to sledding, our son, Caleb, was quite cautious when we first climbed aboard the tiny sled. “Daddy?” Caleb asked curiously, “Will we go fast?” As I wrapped my arms around him tightly, I responded, “I hope so!”

As we started down the hill with nothing more than our feet to steer, Caleb grabbed tightly to my arm. I could sense some fear in his grip. I pulled him closer to me, and away we went.

Slipping, sliding, slushing. A close one here, a near miss there. Yes,
even an occasional wipe out. Soon, Caleb was filled with sheer excitement. “Again Daddy! Again!” The fear was gone. Only excitement and expectation filled his mind.

When it comes to crippling fear and anxiety, we can either avoid the sleds and slopes of life, or we can grab onto our Father and enjoy the ride. There is one thing that turned my son’s fear into joy–trust. He trusted me. He held on for dear life, but he knew I would not let him get hurt. His trust in me gave him the opportunity to enjoy the ride instead of fear it.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and don’t lean on your own understanding” (Proverb 3:5).

This is my life scripture. With it, I grab hold of my Father’s arm and enjoy the ride. Yes, I’ve been down this trail alone many times, and it was terrifying. But, with my Father’s arms wrapped tightly around me, I have learned to trust him through the turns, the near misses and the occasional wipe out. My fear has turned into excitement and expectation.

Prayer: Father, you know the sharp turns, up and downs that lie ahead. Wrap your arms of love around me tightly and hold me close. I trust you to take care of me.

“Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.” –Helen Keller

For a lot of people, God is some distant, disconnected entity that doesn’t really care much about humanity. But, I disagree. I believe God is completely engaged, active and constantly wooing us to a deeper relationship with him. But, what does that look like?

In 1991, I started a journal. It was nothing more than me getting alone and capturing my thoughts on paper. Interestingly, I used a word processor to journal my thoughts and prayers. Here it is 17 years later, and I have pages and pages of journal entries. What I found fascinating is that after about 3 or 4 years of journaling, I started actually listening. Lord, do you have something to say me?

He did.

So, I started spending my mornings by praying and then listening. I would often change my font color to red and just start writing what I thought God was saying to me. It wasn’t an audible voice and some “Thus says the Lord…” prophetic declaration. It was a gentle, tender, quiet whisper deep into my thoughts. And, it was always in love. Always.

Over the years, my journey with God has grown so deep, so wonderful, so engaging and yet always growing, always changing, never stagnant.

It’s truly the most amazing journey I have ever experienced. And why keep this to myself, I thought. So, I started this blog, simply to share my journey with God, and share with you tips and ideas on how you can tap into that “still small voice” of the Divine that gently whispers and woos you.

Join me. Let’s listen together.

http://myjourneywithGod.com