When we are blessed, we are obligated to share not only the blessing but how the blessing occured, as well
Whether a miracle is visible for miles and observed by hundreds or is seen and felt in the heart of just one, it seems impossible to deny that a supernatural force of provisioning and care isn’t at work every day. But it is important that when divinity bestows an act of grace, intercession or prophetic wisdom; that the benefactor must become a witness, so that others’ faith can be bolstered, so that others’ prayers can be validated as answered, and so that all of us can be affirmed with each other that our God continues to be amongst us. In other words, Grace fell upon my shoulders last weekend, and so I am obliged to share that moment.
Setting the Stage
It was supposed to be just another Scouting weekend, with all of our local troops camping together. All day, I knew that I was supposed to preach the next day for our camp’s worship service, and just couldn’t find my normal passion or excitement to even peruse my sermon file for what I would speak on. All afternoon, I had been heartbroken over a Scout parents’ story of struggle that their son was going through. They were going through an unimaginable parental crisis as their Scout realigned his lifestyle, and I felt so helpless other than to assure them that God was in it. The words felt so empty, and yet I knew it was all I could say.
The Holy Spirit was in the Wind
On Saturday night, I was sitting in the dark on a hill that was overlooking a Scouting campfire. A persistent wind was blowing in from the lake, as we were on a peninsula, when all of the sudden, I found myself listening inward instead of watching outward. I truly felt “quiet” – not as in what my ears could not hear, but in my shoulders relaxing, and my mind that wasn’t multitasking, and my heart that wasn’t racing – I felt “quiet.” And then I heard the echoes of several explanations of “The Prodigal Son” as it had been expounded to me in numerous settings. And then I realized that while I was hearing the words that had been used over years past, it was in my voice. The words kept coming and I understood that I was hearing what I needed to say. It was all that I could do to take care of a few minor obligations so that I could run to my laptop and feverishly type into the night.
CLICK HERE to read the sermon on The Prodigal Son, which I cannot claim to have come from me.
Who else was in the story?
It was easy to see the struggling Scout who was recently redeemed (and his parents) in the story of the Prodigal Son, but after I finished typing it, I saw others:
- I saw a Scout who had been astray and confronted with it; and truly turned around. He is just winding up from being his Troop’s leader, as his journey “back” is complete – and I wonder if that isn’t how the prodigal son might have been in the months after returning to his father.
- Another Scout had finally been elected to the OA, after having been passed over – and I saw in him the older brother in the parable who believed himself faithful in everything he did, and yet not rewarded for it. There were other Scouts whom I could foresee as still serving without reward.
- And then I saw myself: As the father, who is looking on the horizon in hopes for his family; As the older brother faithfully toiling away (or at least I hope so); and as the prodigal son, perpetually on my redemption journey but nowhere near “arrived” where I feel worthy for anyone celebrating my return as being complete.
I do hope that each of those that folks listed above, including me, and the other 400 folks that heard the sermon that morning, each found themselves somewhere in that story – perhaps with some experiencing a gentle nudging back into their Father’s Grace.
Thanks for reading.