“Wisdom for Living” Part IV

Proverbs 3:11-12:  “My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord, neither be weary of his correction, for whom the Lord liveth he correcteth, even as a father, the son in whom he delighteth.

The biggest error I find in “Christian faith” is that it is too easy.  Say a prayer and presto “you’re born again.”  We really have no concept of what it is to be a “Christian.”  It’s like saying all Hispanics are Catholic, and those of you who are Catholic understand that one’s nationality does not make you Catholic, no more than drinking milk makes you a cow.  It is a set of beliefs to which one gives himself/herself; therefore, just because we are Americans does not make us Christian.  The faith of Christianity was founded in Christ as he embraced the Cross for past, present, and future believers—for those who would seek forgiveness and refuge in His atoning death.  It was a victory that was hard-fought and won, as the principalities of Hell and Death sought to overcome the God/Man Savior.  Salvation, or to be “born again,” is, therefore, much more than a prayer said in a moment of emotion.  It is thoughtful, searching, and repentant, with an understanding of what is at stake—a surrendering of “me, mine, pride, and self,” to obey, follow, and fall in love with a God who loves us and paid the ultimate price for our freedom.  Without this foundational understanding, when God’s discipline comes, we are offended and fall away, causing more harm to ourselves and to the Faith.

It is necessary, therefore, that we understand the admonitions that are found in these verses. “My son” (‘Ben’ in Hebrew) can be translated “daughter or child ” as well, and as a father with two daughters, there are very few two-word combinations that express more love than “my daughter.”  So when I read “my son,” no matter what follows, it is being said from a heart that loves me and is proud of me—a heart that already approves of me, not a heart from which I have to earn approval.  His love validates my worth as His son, as His love validates your worth as a son or daughter. I have no fear, therefore, in what my Father allows, so to read “despise not the chastening of the Lord,”—understanding that “despise” means to reject, refuse, or lightly esteem and “chastening” to instruct or discipline—means that I accept it knowing that it is the refiners fire burning away the dross—dross that I know exists, until he sees His reflection in my soul.  Another one of my “best friends” since my youth is found in Proverbs 6:23: “For the commandment is a lamp, and the law is light, and reproofs (or disciplines) of instruction are the way of life….”  There is no argument in me towards God’s rod of instruction, only the prayer to be able to endure it, allowing it to have its work in me as the challenges of life come my way. I can fill pages with challenges, hardships, and times of darkness and uncertainty through which I have gone, only to learn the truth in the Shepherd’s Psalm (Psalm 23:4):  “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Tucked within the verse is, “even as a father,” which is a part that breaks my heart. The concept of God being a “Father” comes from us men, who, for the most part, are sorry examples of a Godly father. We have had fathers who failed in their roles as God’s representatives, and they have had fathers who failed in their roles, and on and on it goes.  Our children, therefore, have had to suffer the breakdown and have had to try to reconcile the God of the Bible as a “loving Father,” a God they cannot see, with their own father whom they do see whose role it is to instill worth and value but fails.  So, if my own father does not love me, does not feel I’m important enough, why would God find me important.  You see, when we fail as fathers, the breakdown is huge.  It is emotional, spiritual, and is often being acted out on the physical level.  Show me a child that has a poor self-image, and I will show you a child that is prey to sex, drugs, and high-risk actions, only to gain approval from his or her peers.  Fortunately, this is not true of all of us dads; it is just true of too many of us.  Our job as parents is huge, and single moms serving as a mom and dad is even greater still. The sense of self-worth, “that I matter,” comes from our parents, especially from us fathers, and to the degree we fail as parents is to the degree that our children will struggle with their sense of self-worth.  Just look at us!  It is to the degree that we still struggle, even now as adults. The “Love of God” is so “other” that unless you dwell in it, you can in no way model it or give it.  God help us parents, especially us fathers, to get it!

I love this phrase, “the son in whom he delighteth.”  In Hebrew, “Pasah” (delighteth), means to take pleasure in, to accept, to be acceptable, and to treat favorably. God’s love is not for sale. You cannot buy it and you cannot work for it.  You come into it only under God’s terms alone—you become His child, “the son/daughter in whom he delighteth.” This is hard to accept for those of us who still want to “make our way in this life” (a life that is so passing), but what a joy for those of us who are broken and hungry for truth—what a relief.”  You mean I don’t have to go through hoops to gain approval?  I am already approved though I have done nothing?”  Yes, the Love of God is “SO OTHER,” there is no human experience that it can be likened towards. The only one that possibly is close is the love of a parent towards their newborn. The child has not earned a thing; we don’t even know the child’s personality, and up to this point, it has caused a fair amount of pain and discomfort, but at the moment of birth, that child is given full rights into the family and all that we have achieved up to that point is appointed for their care.  Our response, therefore, to the Lord is one of surrender and acceptance of God’s love and to learn of Him, or go on our way chiseling out a life that hopefully will fulfill us, validate us, and fill the emptiness within.  It is our choice, and it will always be our choice.

Father God,

I now pray for everyone who has read this devotional.  I ask that the power and strength of this message will be irresistible to them, as you truly are irresistible.  Whatever concepts we have developed of you that do not line up with your words of love and encouragement, I pray they will crumble and become as dust.  Cause us to see that it is not about doing.  It is about being—being in communion and relationship with you. The doing is a natural by-product of being, just like an apple is the by-product of a healthy apple tree.  Please, Lord, help us to understand.  In your name,  Amen.

Dios lo Bendiga – Arthur

 

A friend of mine wrote the below poem entitled:  My Imaginary Dad.  She has shared with me the multiple psychological damages she has suffered due to never seeing or knowing her father.  She met him when she was 22 years old.  She also shared that when she became a believer in Jesus Christ, she was unable to call God “Father” due to the relationship or lack of relationship she had with her earthly father.  After much prayer and effort, she is now able to easily call God “Father” and “Dad,” and she knows that this God Father will never leave her or forsake her.

My Imaginary Dad

Where are you, my Imaginary Dad

One day I looked up and you were gone

You were always there in my youth

When I was feeling down, you were my friend

When I needed advice, you were my counselor

When I stumbled, you were there to offer your hand

You always knew the right words to cheer me

You always knew when I needed a hug to make me whole again

Yes, you were the perfect dad, and I was your beautiful little girl

But then you went away, my Imaginary Dad

My goal had been to find you; to know you; to be your little girl

And there you were, standing before me

But there was no elation—only an unexpected chill

You were, after all, just a man—a stranger among strangers

The vision was dead

It died many years before you, but the pain is no less now than then

One day they telephoned and said you were gone

They said you knew; you knew, but you did not call to say farewell

Quite apropos for a stranger; a stranger my real dad

A stranger in life; a stranger in death

 Written by Sandi E. Garrett

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