HOPE

It's September 2nd, 2008. I am in Worland,Wyoming...my earth home for now. Today we went to WalMart--no small fete here in this barren desert place. Our nearest WalMart is nearly two hours drive. It's a 'day event'.

Today was a lovely fall day. Fall has come early this year. You could feel a change in the air two weeks ago. As we were driving along, I noticed that there is already snow on the mountain peaks. It is such a majestic view. I've taken dozens of pictures and NONE of them can ever really capture the essence of the way those mountains look.

Sarah and Emmanuel rode along with us on our trip 'out'. It was a fun adventure taking an eleven day old baby into a store full of people. Everyone looks. After they look, they smile. Then, we smile back and we 'know' without words. I like that.

While we were out having our WalMart adventure, our two dogs were home alone. Sami dog, who is eleven years old, generally goes to sleep while we are out, but the new Prince Mocha dog--well, THAT is a different can of worms. When we returned, the baby hamper had been knocked over and all the baby clothes were strewn upon the floor. Then, the trash can near the baby changing table was knocked over and dirty diapers and wipes were also decorating the carpet. Ick! It was terrible.

Bless Kevin, he took care of that for me. I had my arms full of baby who was ready to be changed and fed and rocked. Sarah was nearly late for a doctors appointment, so she ran on.

The one thing I like about having to drive a ways to get to our destination is that I have the gift of time...time to think...time to pray...and if I am a passenger as I was today, ....time to read.

I have been pondering on a story in the gospels. It is the parable of the Prodigal Son. For a variety of reasons, this story has come to mean a great deal to me. As a parent, I feel for the father who waits (maybe not so patiently) for the return of his much loved, younger, son. As he looked each day toward the horizon...what were his feelings? Was he remembering when the young man was a little boy? Does he think about the prayers that little boy said and the faith he exhibited as a child? Does the father pray and ask the Eternal Father to help the young man remember his faith?

I am sure that the father wondered what the boy was doing. Who were his friends? What sin was he getting into that would be hard to get away from 'when' he came to his senses....and God, would he come to his senses?

Did the father worry....does he have food to eat? ...does he have a bed to lay down in? ...is he even still alive?

As a mother, I have thought these same things about some of my children. My heart grieves, as I am sure the prodigal sons' fathers' heart also grieved.

Jesus doesn't leave the story there. He tells 'the rest of the story'. I think he tells the ending to give hope. Hope that our children who are out in the world, that have turned away from their childhood faith, will 'come home' just as this young man did.

I hang on to that hope for my own wandering children. I pray...'oh God...help them to remember how much you love them and how much we still want them to 'come home'.

I cry with the father. I cry for the father. And, I cry for the children.

When our children were little, I honestly didn't believe any of them would dessert their Heavenly Father. Their faith seemed so sure. We taught them right. We lived our faith before them. We did what was right. When we sinned, we confessed and forsook our wrong and taught our children to do the same.

Yet, here they are.....here we are.....with children who have lost their way.

Thank you, Jesus for telling this story. There are so many truths we can learn from it. But tonight, my truth I am holding on to is the hope....that I shall see my children as they return home...coming from a far country....on the horizon...afar off.

I shall plan a party upon their return....I will rejoice...and I will remember the old father....and rejoice anew with him. I have hope.