Do you need to dance?
Notice I didn’t say do you like to dance, or even can you dance. Neither of those is true for me - I’m not terribly coordinated or graceful, and am rather self-conscious of how foolish I look out on the dance floor.
God calls me to a joy-filled party in His house. He asks me to lay aside my perceptions of what is fair, what others (and I) deserve, and my “trophies” of being a hard-working, “good” Christian. Instead, God asks me to join Him in an exuberant celebration when one more person finds their way home and into His arms.
Our God is a God of festivities, I believe. He wants to fill my life with the joy of His presence and love, and He wants that to be enough for me. Regardless of my circumstances, what I have and what I don’t, what I’ve done and where I’ve been, He invites me in to an ongoing, amazing celebration.
Jesus leaves the story unfinished. We don’t know how the older brother reacted.
My story, too, is unfinished. And the choice to accept or reject God’s blessings, of course, is mine. Will I remain outside, caught up in my own pride, deciding I won’t stoop so low as to mingle with the likes of “those people” whom God has welcomed?
Or will I realize my Father’s love for me is all-encompassing and is not diminished by His love for others. And that I will be with Him always, and He is all I really truly need or want, anyway.
I probably need to come on in and dance more. You?
Lee Thrasher
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Day 39
Writing lists. Managing tasks. Crossing off items completed. I admit it – I love this stuff! Surely there are a few of my fellow type-A folks out there? It reminds me of our dear “older brother”.
All sheep accounted for? Check.
Tasks delegated to hired men? Check.
Report on livestock to Dad? Check.
The older brother was head down, nose to the grindstone, gritting his teeth, and duty bound. He was determined to do the right thing! I am a big believer in duty. It has become a bit of an old-fashioned word in our society, but there is often a clear call to do our duty, regardless of our feelings.
I wonder, though, if we can become so consumed with our duties that we forget to pause and bask in the love of our Father. He is our Creator. He created us to work. We are happier when we are purposeful, but we are joyful when we reflect on the irrepressible love of a God who numbers the hairs on our heads.
My Father knows the tasks that I have planned to cross off of my list today. He just wants me to look up from my bustling about and remember that He loves me to the core and that He gave me all that I truly need. He gave me His Son.
Kathleen Tatro
All sheep accounted for? Check.
Tasks delegated to hired men? Check.
Report on livestock to Dad? Check.
The older brother was head down, nose to the grindstone, gritting his teeth, and duty bound. He was determined to do the right thing! I am a big believer in duty. It has become a bit of an old-fashioned word in our society, but there is often a clear call to do our duty, regardless of our feelings.
I wonder, though, if we can become so consumed with our duties that we forget to pause and bask in the love of our Father. He is our Creator. He created us to work. We are happier when we are purposeful, but we are joyful when we reflect on the irrepressible love of a God who numbers the hairs on our heads.
My Father knows the tasks that I have planned to cross off of my list today. He just wants me to look up from my bustling about and remember that He loves me to the core and that He gave me all that I truly need. He gave me His Son.
Kathleen Tatro
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Day 38
When my girls were little, their birthday parties were the highlight of their year. It was different from all other parties because this party was just about them. There was, however a problem when we would take them to someone else’s party; they didn’t understand why that party wasn’t about them too.
The older brother’s jealously was worn like a badge of pride. He was jealous that he’d never gotten a shindig thrown in his honor; let’s face it, he was the good one! Why had his Dad never thought about giving him an ‘I love you son’ party? Don’t you think he felt left out? On a similar note, no one went out into the fields to get him to bring him home to share in the party. The scripture just says ‘when the older brother got home’. I can only imagine what that felt like; probably like when you walk into a room and everyone becomes strangely silent. Your immediate conclusion is that they were saying bad things about you and that’s why they all stopped. It’s embarrassing! Don’t you think the older brother was embarrassed and his pride would not let him hold in his self-righteousness for one more minute? My grandmother used to tell me “whatever is in someone’s heart will come out eventually.”
I wonder sometimes about our welcome into heaven; will there be a lot of older brothers and sisters who are looking around upon my arrival thinking, “how in the world did she get here? She didn’t keep all the rules or do things ‘the right way’. I imagine I’ll just smile and say, “My father loved me with everything he had, even when I was the black sheep and made a mess of things; I knew when to look for home. God was my solace in those moments of repentance.” Praise God for second chances and for the party awaiting us all when we all get to heaven. I can’t wait to see what the Father has prepared.
Sandy Welfare
The older brother’s jealously was worn like a badge of pride. He was jealous that he’d never gotten a shindig thrown in his honor; let’s face it, he was the good one! Why had his Dad never thought about giving him an ‘I love you son’ party? Don’t you think he felt left out? On a similar note, no one went out into the fields to get him to bring him home to share in the party. The scripture just says ‘when the older brother got home’. I can only imagine what that felt like; probably like when you walk into a room and everyone becomes strangely silent. Your immediate conclusion is that they were saying bad things about you and that’s why they all stopped. It’s embarrassing! Don’t you think the older brother was embarrassed and his pride would not let him hold in his self-righteousness for one more minute? My grandmother used to tell me “whatever is in someone’s heart will come out eventually.”
I wonder sometimes about our welcome into heaven; will there be a lot of older brothers and sisters who are looking around upon my arrival thinking, “how in the world did she get here? She didn’t keep all the rules or do things ‘the right way’. I imagine I’ll just smile and say, “My father loved me with everything he had, even when I was the black sheep and made a mess of things; I knew when to look for home. God was my solace in those moments of repentance.” Praise God for second chances and for the party awaiting us all when we all get to heaven. I can’t wait to see what the Father has prepared.
Sandy Welfare
Monday, July 12, 2010
Day 37
So, the elder son snaps. Bottom line: he’s been doing all the work and his spoiled, rotten brat of a brother gets a party. Did I mention that the little rug rat spent a barn load of money, too?
I’ve got a little brother. He’s the baby of the family. Number four of four. He got everything sooner, bigger, and without consequence time and time again (or so I thought). TV in his room-with cable! Telephone-in his room...good grief, Charlie Brown. My parents must have been abducted by aliens.
The elder son needed what I like to call a “come to Jesus meeting”. The father was much kinder than I would have been. I might have started the conversation with a wallop across the noggin to get his brain refocused. Tell me you haven’t thought about it!!
I’ve had several “come to Jesus meetings” with my little brother. Turns out, being the baby of the family wasn’t all roses and parades. Who knew? He got lots of “you’re nothing like your brothers” and “your sister is so great” and “why aren’t you as studious as your siblings?” He struggled mightily to find his way in the world, and live up to everyone’s expectations based on the three kids who came before him.
My dad had a saying every time we would go out with my friends or on a date, “remember whose son you are.” That’s what the elder son needed to hear. It’s not about who does what or doesn’t do this or that. It’s about the Father. I have a much less compassionate phrase I’ve added to my dad’s saying...“get over yourself, and remember whose son you are!” OK, so I still have some work to do in the empathy department!
In the end, we all just needed to drop the comparison/contrast, get over ourselves, and pick up the cross of our big brother to carry for a while. I hope for his sake the elder son got it. I sure wish we had Paul Harvey to give us “the rest of the story!”
Jim Bales
I’ve got a little brother. He’s the baby of the family. Number four of four. He got everything sooner, bigger, and without consequence time and time again (or so I thought). TV in his room-with cable! Telephone-in his room...good grief, Charlie Brown. My parents must have been abducted by aliens.
The elder son needed what I like to call a “come to Jesus meeting”. The father was much kinder than I would have been. I might have started the conversation with a wallop across the noggin to get his brain refocused. Tell me you haven’t thought about it!!
I’ve had several “come to Jesus meetings” with my little brother. Turns out, being the baby of the family wasn’t all roses and parades. Who knew? He got lots of “you’re nothing like your brothers” and “your sister is so great” and “why aren’t you as studious as your siblings?” He struggled mightily to find his way in the world, and live up to everyone’s expectations based on the three kids who came before him.
My dad had a saying every time we would go out with my friends or on a date, “remember whose son you are.” That’s what the elder son needed to hear. It’s not about who does what or doesn’t do this or that. It’s about the Father. I have a much less compassionate phrase I’ve added to my dad’s saying...“get over yourself, and remember whose son you are!” OK, so I still have some work to do in the empathy department!
In the end, we all just needed to drop the comparison/contrast, get over ourselves, and pick up the cross of our big brother to carry for a while. I hope for his sake the elder son got it. I sure wish we had Paul Harvey to give us “the rest of the story!”
Jim Bales
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day 36
The irony is overwhelming. The God of the new covenant reminding me that He loves me and wants me.
For each son the Father goes out of his way. For the prodigal, the Father is found anticipating his son’s arrival -an arrival we, the reader, view as a slim chance. The Father should be focused on more important things. He should be rebuilding the estate, creating bigger, better business to restore things to pre-divided inheritance status. Instead, the Father sees his son in the distance and runs to meet him.
For the older brother the Father takes a break from the party he is hosting. It would have been noticeable that the Father stepped away from the celebration and out into the dark night.
And the Father pleads with the older son, “Don’t you see? All this is yours.” (As they look around the plantation.) The Father indicates that with the older brother is always celebration. Every moments is testimony to the faithfulness of the older brother, a faithful response of the older brother to the generosity of the loving, giving Father.
When God pleads it’s as if he has to convince me of the elementary truths of what I already know. When God pleads it’s because my faith is weak.
God pleads with me in the wonder of creation. He pleads with me in the bond of close relationships with my spouse, my boys and friends. He pleads with me in those moments when I rediscover His grace. He pleads with me through faithful blessing in the midst of hurt and pain, often the result of my own sin. God pleads with me in the daily provision of life.
May you hear the pleading of God today. May you know that celebration for you continues in the heart of the Father. For you are found.
Nathan Tillotson
For each son the Father goes out of his way. For the prodigal, the Father is found anticipating his son’s arrival -an arrival we, the reader, view as a slim chance. The Father should be focused on more important things. He should be rebuilding the estate, creating bigger, better business to restore things to pre-divided inheritance status. Instead, the Father sees his son in the distance and runs to meet him.
For the older brother the Father takes a break from the party he is hosting. It would have been noticeable that the Father stepped away from the celebration and out into the dark night.
And the Father pleads with the older son, “Don’t you see? All this is yours.” (As they look around the plantation.) The Father indicates that with the older brother is always celebration. Every moments is testimony to the faithfulness of the older brother, a faithful response of the older brother to the generosity of the loving, giving Father.
When God pleads it’s as if he has to convince me of the elementary truths of what I already know. When God pleads it’s because my faith is weak.
God pleads with me in the wonder of creation. He pleads with me in the bond of close relationships with my spouse, my boys and friends. He pleads with me in those moments when I rediscover His grace. He pleads with me through faithful blessing in the midst of hurt and pain, often the result of my own sin. God pleads with me in the daily provision of life.
May you hear the pleading of God today. May you know that celebration for you continues in the heart of the Father. For you are found.
Nathan Tillotson
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day 35
“And he would not come in…”
“I will not join you in a celebration… that’s not for me!”
Is it just me or is this what’s going on in the older brother’s head. He stands outside and pouts in anger. He just hates the thought of his low-life brother getting a big cake. That is so petty, so prideful and unfortunately, soooo me.
You see, few of us want to miss a party and this one was a big deal. The Father had gone all out. A feast that included meat in those days would have been an affair for the whole village to enjoy. Everyone would have come to celebrate the return of the master’s lost son. Which means everyone would have been watching as the host and Lord of the party had to go outside. And why? His eldest son, the one who was presumed to become the new master one day was pulling a power-play: “You can’t make me dance. I won’t do it!”
Haven’t you seen someone who doesn’t want to dance at a wedding reception get drug onto the floor by the bride or groom. Maybe its Grandpa or Uncle Bob whose embarrassed because they can’t dance. But soon everyone is clapping and chanting their name as they are pulled into the party. And if they even wiggle their hips an inch everybody goes nuts and applauds. Because, somehow, they just took the party up a notch. It just got more fun.
But if they refuse, if they throw down and cross their arms and get stinky in front of the whole crowd… everyone gets tense. We all start to look away and we all feel sorry for the bride or groom because this is not what you want at your party: A stick in the mud who can’t enjoy the celebration.
Now you see what the crowd saw as the older brother refused to come in and dance.
And why? It wasn’t that he didn’t like parties. He was juts ticked that this party wasn’t for him! He wasn’t the one getting celebrated. He even says so: “You never gave me a young goat to party with my friends!” His message seems to be “If it isn’t my party, I’m not dancing!”
Sound familiar? How do you handle it when the party, the reward or the accolades are for someone else? How do you respond when its someone else’s idea or success or return is being trumpeted? I know what I hear in my head:
Pride quietly assures me that I deserve it more than them.
Greed says that I never get that big a cake at my party.
Contempt whispers that they don’t even appreciate what’s being done and never earned it.
And… my Father says, “Come on and celebrate – You need it!”
So what party do you need to dance at this week? Go celebrate someone else: Its good medicine for older-brother-itis.
Jeff Walling
“I will not join you in a celebration… that’s not for me!”
Is it just me or is this what’s going on in the older brother’s head. He stands outside and pouts in anger. He just hates the thought of his low-life brother getting a big cake. That is so petty, so prideful and unfortunately, soooo me.
You see, few of us want to miss a party and this one was a big deal. The Father had gone all out. A feast that included meat in those days would have been an affair for the whole village to enjoy. Everyone would have come to celebrate the return of the master’s lost son. Which means everyone would have been watching as the host and Lord of the party had to go outside. And why? His eldest son, the one who was presumed to become the new master one day was pulling a power-play: “You can’t make me dance. I won’t do it!”
Haven’t you seen someone who doesn’t want to dance at a wedding reception get drug onto the floor by the bride or groom. Maybe its Grandpa or Uncle Bob whose embarrassed because they can’t dance. But soon everyone is clapping and chanting their name as they are pulled into the party. And if they even wiggle their hips an inch everybody goes nuts and applauds. Because, somehow, they just took the party up a notch. It just got more fun.
But if they refuse, if they throw down and cross their arms and get stinky in front of the whole crowd… everyone gets tense. We all start to look away and we all feel sorry for the bride or groom because this is not what you want at your party: A stick in the mud who can’t enjoy the celebration.
Now you see what the crowd saw as the older brother refused to come in and dance.
And why? It wasn’t that he didn’t like parties. He was juts ticked that this party wasn’t for him! He wasn’t the one getting celebrated. He even says so: “You never gave me a young goat to party with my friends!” His message seems to be “If it isn’t my party, I’m not dancing!”
Sound familiar? How do you handle it when the party, the reward or the accolades are for someone else? How do you respond when its someone else’s idea or success or return is being trumpeted? I know what I hear in my head:
Pride quietly assures me that I deserve it more than them.
Greed says that I never get that big a cake at my party.
Contempt whispers that they don’t even appreciate what’s being done and never earned it.
And… my Father says, “Come on and celebrate – You need it!”
So what party do you need to dance at this week? Go celebrate someone else: Its good medicine for older-brother-itis.
Jeff Walling
Friday, July 9, 2010
Day 34
There are two kinds of “good students.” You might think an A is an A. But it’s not. There is the kind of good student whose sight is set on achieving to the best of their ability. They are only satisfied when they know they have given it their all. It doesn’t matter who else tells them they did an amazing job on a paper…if they put a period in a sentence where there should’ve been a comma then the world is not right. The class wants to strangle this student upon finding out there is no curve because Smarty Pants got a 99 on a test that no one else achieved higher than a 75 on. That is good student X for the sake of our comparison.
Student Y also gets A’s in class…but student Y takes a little bit of a different path. Y calculates his grade prior to each test. He searches through the pages of the class syllabus to determine what percentage of his grade this test will account for and his computations ultimately reveal the lowest grade he/she can possibly get on the test to keep an A.
I am student Y. Impure motives & selfish desires…it’s a little bit embarrassing, I know, but the first step to overcoming is admitting, so maybe I am on my way to recovery :) This trait became apparent to me while I was in college and I don’t think I cared even a bit but as I analyze it now I am befuddled [I don’t think if I’ve ever typed that word before] at how I arrived there. I think some people are born into the pack of Student Y’s [it sounds like a disease] but not me, I love learning. I used to study my spelling words right up until the minute we had to take the test just so I could get a 100. I thrived on doing the best I possibly could…and then I was introduced to culture. The idea that one could do the least amount of work possible to achieve what they want began to eat away at my innocent perception of the world.
Has that same perception wreaked havoc on our relationships with the Lord? It makes me kind of sick to think about the Lord in the same context I think about grades…but it is the reality of our sinful, human nature. We want to do the least amount of work we can to be saved. We look around at other Christians and if we swear less than them and lie less than them and attend more bible studies than they do then we must be doing ok.
As I read the story of the prodigal son today the words of the older brother slapped me in the face, “All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me…” This sentence reeks of self-righteousness and entitlement…and it implies that if we can do just enough to be better than the next guy then we will have earned our right to _______.
I live in awe of a God who laughs at this ridiculous theory. Isaiah 64 reminds me of how small I am, “When we display our righteous deeds, they are nothing but filthy rags.” Our most righteous acts [how often do those occur anyway?] are filth in comparison to our perfect, holy, loving Lord. Initially, these words discourage and dishearten but as they wash over me I begin to bask in the freedom that my good deeds will never win me salvation.
Salvation is free. Costly, but free. And our wonderful God has made it available to all of us. May you bask in that freedom today.
Jenna Thomas
Student Y also gets A’s in class…but student Y takes a little bit of a different path. Y calculates his grade prior to each test. He searches through the pages of the class syllabus to determine what percentage of his grade this test will account for and his computations ultimately reveal the lowest grade he/she can possibly get on the test to keep an A.
I am student Y. Impure motives & selfish desires…it’s a little bit embarrassing, I know, but the first step to overcoming is admitting, so maybe I am on my way to recovery :) This trait became apparent to me while I was in college and I don’t think I cared even a bit but as I analyze it now I am befuddled [I don’t think if I’ve ever typed that word before] at how I arrived there. I think some people are born into the pack of Student Y’s [it sounds like a disease] but not me, I love learning. I used to study my spelling words right up until the minute we had to take the test just so I could get a 100. I thrived on doing the best I possibly could…and then I was introduced to culture. The idea that one could do the least amount of work possible to achieve what they want began to eat away at my innocent perception of the world.
Has that same perception wreaked havoc on our relationships with the Lord? It makes me kind of sick to think about the Lord in the same context I think about grades…but it is the reality of our sinful, human nature. We want to do the least amount of work we can to be saved. We look around at other Christians and if we swear less than them and lie less than them and attend more bible studies than they do then we must be doing ok.
As I read the story of the prodigal son today the words of the older brother slapped me in the face, “All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me…” This sentence reeks of self-righteousness and entitlement…and it implies that if we can do just enough to be better than the next guy then we will have earned our right to _______.
I live in awe of a God who laughs at this ridiculous theory. Isaiah 64 reminds me of how small I am, “When we display our righteous deeds, they are nothing but filthy rags.” Our most righteous acts [how often do those occur anyway?] are filth in comparison to our perfect, holy, loving Lord. Initially, these words discourage and dishearten but as they wash over me I begin to bask in the freedom that my good deeds will never win me salvation.
Salvation is free. Costly, but free. And our wonderful God has made it available to all of us. May you bask in that freedom today.
Jenna Thomas
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