“Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you: therefore He will rise up to show you compassion.” (Isiah 30:19 NIV)
One of my all-time favorite movies is Father of the Bride. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve probably seen it thirty times. The movie opens with Steve Martin’s character (the father of the bride), sitting in his wedding-reception-weary living room, contemplating the sudden and complete conferring of his one and only daughter.
In the hustle and bustle of the festivities, his daughter departed without a moment for real heart connection. The dad is devastated and the movie consists of him recalling the entire sequence of events; from the surprise of a fiancé through the menagerie of planning all the way to the wedding itself. He’s trying to figure out how he arrived at this moment, with a yawning-empty house, without realizing her childhood was ending.
And then, in the last few minutes of the film, Annie calls. Dad lights up as he hears his daughter’s voice on the line, her laugh, her love expressed on more time before she boards a flight for her honeymoon.
It’s a strange thing, having a grown up child. We visited ours over the weekend. This time we went his direction, stepping over the threshold into his world, his friends, his schedule and his routines. It was a holy thing, to watch him self-govern with very little input from mom or dad. I felt a bit like a spectator on the sidelines of his life: cheering mightily and praying fervently. No longer a coach, just a really big fan. Invested in the outcome, but not calling the plays.
After this weekend, I get it. I’m no longer relating to the daughter in the Father of the Bride story. The dad finally has my full attention. I understand what it means to be a parent; to love fiercely, to nurture and protect as a tiger mom right up until the moment when we let go. And that moment seems to arrive in a hurry. It doesn’t feel like it with a newborn or a toddler or that incredibly cute elementary kid. But when that chubby baby hits high school, the end is near and the days are fast. And then we step to the sidelines and start cheering and praying till we catch their eye again.
This whole weekend experience made me think about God and the Garden of Eden, how He carefully crafted two people. He poured His love and resources, His life and breath into Adam and Eve. And then, they chose to go their own way. They left the garden, having opted instead to judge good and evil for themselves. And God didn’t stop them. Nope, He stood on the sidelines, cheering and hoping they’d come to their senses and return to Him. How gracious!
I don’t long for our son to return to us or his childhood. I’m deliriously proud of the strides toward adulthood he’s making. Yet, sitting on his sidelines makes me think all the more about our heavenly Father: how our best life is found in Him, with Him. He avails so much power and wisdom and strength; it’s all ours if we’ll just call Him in and let Him coach us through this one, short life on earth. What patience He exhibits as He waits for our invitation! What a gift He’s given and honored in our very own free will! He stands by and He stands ready. He searches the horizon for the first sign from us that we are open to relationship, coming home to Him.
“So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his ams around him and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20 NIV)
Lord, we are only beginning to wake up to Your love. You have done so much for us, we may never know. We are glad to be Your children, glad to be born in the center of Your affections. Today we are calling You back in, asking You to reign in the center of our story. Lead us, speak to us, breathe in us again. We realize our very best life is only found in You. Amen.