"You say you actually want to live here? Are you sure? Look around -- at the neighborhood, the house itself -- and with me?"
"Yes, that is exactly what I want. Remember, I built the place. It has really been mine all along, but I gave it to you to do with as you pleased. I always hoped that you would want me to share it with you. Somehow, I think that is what you want too. The choice is all yours."
"Right. Yeah, that's what I want. Sure. But the very idea is fantastic! YOU living HERE? The whole place is run-down. I have not kept up with repairs. To tell the truth, I've even damaged parts of it..."
"You have a very nice front door."
"Oh yes, I keep the outside looking pretty good. The neighbors would never suspect what it is like on the inside though."
All this may sound a bit strange, so I will try to explain. You see, he really is my father. I left home way back when, and determined to make my way in life without Him always telling me what to do. I survived, and was proud of my accomplishments, even though there were times I secretly wished I could have had his wise counsel.. He knew where I was, and I knew he was available for help if I needed it, but I was determined to ignore him. I expected him to leave me alone and convinced myself that he probably wanted it that way. I suppose that the real reason was that some of my business tactics were below the high standards he had taught in my childhood, and I was ashamed.
Then the bottom dropped out of my world. I'll spare you the ghastly details, but in the course of two months I lost my job and I became seriously ill. Life was reduced to a feeble fumble of existence. One night my fever broke and I awoke to see my father sitting by my bed. He was there the next morning, and returned several times in the days that followed. He did not say much, but always seemed to know just what I needed.
As my condition improved, we talked. I listened, for a change. He heard all my gripes and complaints. We argued agreeably. Gradually, it dawned on me that he really did love me to a degree and in ways that I had never imagined. I began to feel the truth of what others had often said, "You really are his child."
Back home from the hospital, I had my father over several times for a meal and/or a short visit. When he left, the house felt empty.
One day as I tried to reconcile my checkbook with its perpetually negative balance, I desperately turned to him for advice. In a short time, the problem was eased and my mind was at peace. Later on, a misunderstanding threatened a treasured relationship. Frustrated, confused, and again desperate, I turned to my father for help. He came and soon showed me what to do.
That was when I said something that I thought I would never say. "I wish you could just live here with me all the time!"
I expected an indulgent smile in reply. What I got was, "Yes, I would like that."
Well, he moved right in; didn't complain about anything or criticise. Together, we have cleaned up the place a lot, and he showed me how to make some repairs. I have completely acknowleged that everything here is really his. He has been telling me lately about some out-of-this-world property that he owns; says he has a place there for me that is better than any of this. Meanwhile, the old place certainly looks better, and some of the neighbors are getting to know my father.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I Corinthians 3:16 "Don't you know that you are God's temple, and the Spirit of God dwells in you?
"Yes, that is exactly what I want. Remember, I built the place. It has really been mine all along, but I gave it to you to do with as you pleased. I always hoped that you would want me to share it with you. Somehow, I think that is what you want too. The choice is all yours."
"Right. Yeah, that's what I want. Sure. But the very idea is fantastic! YOU living HERE? The whole place is run-down. I have not kept up with repairs. To tell the truth, I've even damaged parts of it..."
"You have a very nice front door."
"Oh yes, I keep the outside looking pretty good. The neighbors would never suspect what it is like on the inside though."
All this may sound a bit strange, so I will try to explain. You see, he really is my father. I left home way back when, and determined to make my way in life without Him always telling me what to do. I survived, and was proud of my accomplishments, even though there were times I secretly wished I could have had his wise counsel.. He knew where I was, and I knew he was available for help if I needed it, but I was determined to ignore him. I expected him to leave me alone and convinced myself that he probably wanted it that way. I suppose that the real reason was that some of my business tactics were below the high standards he had taught in my childhood, and I was ashamed.
Then the bottom dropped out of my world. I'll spare you the ghastly details, but in the course of two months I lost my job and I became seriously ill. Life was reduced to a feeble fumble of existence. One night my fever broke and I awoke to see my father sitting by my bed. He was there the next morning, and returned several times in the days that followed. He did not say much, but always seemed to know just what I needed.
As my condition improved, we talked. I listened, for a change. He heard all my gripes and complaints. We argued agreeably. Gradually, it dawned on me that he really did love me to a degree and in ways that I had never imagined. I began to feel the truth of what others had often said, "You really are his child."
Back home from the hospital, I had my father over several times for a meal and/or a short visit. When he left, the house felt empty.
One day as I tried to reconcile my checkbook with its perpetually negative balance, I desperately turned to him for advice. In a short time, the problem was eased and my mind was at peace. Later on, a misunderstanding threatened a treasured relationship. Frustrated, confused, and again desperate, I turned to my father for help. He came and soon showed me what to do.
That was when I said something that I thought I would never say. "I wish you could just live here with me all the time!"
I expected an indulgent smile in reply. What I got was, "Yes, I would like that."
Well, he moved right in; didn't complain about anything or criticise. Together, we have cleaned up the place a lot, and he showed me how to make some repairs. I have completely acknowleged that everything here is really his. He has been telling me lately about some out-of-this-world property that he owns; says he has a place there for me that is better than any of this. Meanwhile, the old place certainly looks better, and some of the neighbors are getting to know my father.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I Corinthians 3:16 "Don't you know that you are God's temple, and the Spirit of God dwells in you?
