I had a good report last week after completing one round of chemotherapy. The unwanted protein has already dropped from 3.3 to 2.5. Since good responses with this type of chemo are usually seen early, this is a good sign… making the negative aspects of the treatment much more bearable. I am enjoying an ‘off week’ before starting the second round Monday. Again I thank you for continued prayers.
On the way home from the doctor Thursday, I thought I would call Taylor who has been gone a little more than a month. When he did not answer and I got his voice mail a strange thing happened: I started crying. Now I guess I could blame such emotions on drugs, but I don’t think they had quite kicked in. Somewhere deep in the heart, I think a father misses his son. I was warned by friends who have watched sons and daughters leave home. When these grown men told me of tears they had shed, I would think to myself, “I don’t think I’ll do that.” But there I drove Thursday afternoon with tears streaming down my face thinking of the son I’ve not seen in a while.
I know of one father who lived out in the country. He missed his son so much he made it a daily habit to walk out on his porch to look down the long driveway in search of his son. If he stood long enough, tears would come to his eyes too. One day he saw a little dot on the horizon and wondered who it might be. As a young man got closer and closer to the house, the father thought he looked familiar. Could it be? As the father climbed off the porch and saw that, indeed, it was his son, he started running toward him. Without shame, he hugged his son and welcomed him home.
You probably recognize the story Jesus told about His Father. My friend Harry in Jerusalem tells me that in that culture today, as in the time of Christ, an older man would never run. In fact, it would be shameful for a father to hike up his robe and run up the road to welcome a child… prodigal or not. But is that not the point of the story? A Father loved us so much, He endured shame to welcome us home.
Christian author, Ted Dekker, has written a novel entitled OBSESSED in which a man goes to incredible lengths to gain a buried treasure. At the end of the book, he writes the familiar parable that Jesus told about such a guy. “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.” (Matthew 13:44) With the obvious lesson that we should be obsessed with true treasure, Ted Dekker also shares that God is obsessed with us. Such obsession causes a father to constantly look for a lost child. Such obsession causes a Shepherd to leave ninety-nine sheep to go search for one. Such obsession even causes One to lay down His life for those He loves.
I heard about a group of Jewish rabbis who put their faith in Christ and quickly reached some unusual conclusions about the Jewish writings we call the New Testament. The parable of the hidden treasure had a very obvious meaning to them. We are the treasure. God found us and with great joy gave everything He possessed to purchase us. (Technically, they understood that the Jews were represented by the hidden treasure and the Gentiles were represented by the pearl of great price – the next parable Jesus told.) Can it be we are worth that much to God?
So if the perfect Father is obsessed to the point that He would give His most precious Son for His children, I guess it’s OK for a dad (or a mom) to shed an occasional tear for one of his own 
“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 arms around him and kissed him.” Luke 15:20