Running from the Father
After I got out of Bible College, I rented a room in a large house in Westlake Village, CA. One of the men who lived in the house was Pat. Pat was one of those people who seemed to be forever on the search for a significant life but never found what he wanted. He moved from one place to another, one job to another, one set of friends to another, but never settled on anything. One day Pat, who knew I was a minister, was telling me he was searching for the Father. He went on and on about this search, telling me he was reading some of the Chinese mystics, hoping they would give him the wisdom he needed to find the Father, or whatever he thought the Father should be. After listening to him for a while, I finally said, “Pat, I don’t really think you’re looking for the Father.”
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
“No, you’re not,” I said.
“Yes, I really am,” Pat said.
“No, you’re really not,” I said. “And I’ll prove it.”
“How?” he asked.
I said, “The Father has instructed me to tell you I can lead you to Him.”
“No He didn’t,” Pat said in a hurry, and then he stopped short. It seemed I caught Pat in his own lie. You see, Pat didn’t really want to find the Father, because when he did it would mean he’d have to make different decisions. It would mean Pat would have to change his lifestyle and live for the honor of the Father he claimed he was searching for. Continue Reading
The phone call came, as they usually do, at an inconvenient time. It was my mom, calling from Mississippi, telling me in Baton Rouge that my dad was in the hospital in California and had cancer. This was definitely not convenient. I called my dad and told him I was flying out in a couple of days to see him. He said he was looking forward to my visit.
Thinking Out Loud 