The book with the most impact on my life was Henri Nouwen’s book, The Return of the Parodical Son.
I had figured that I had graduated past the point of leaving the
Fat6her in hopes of the distant lands, yet I still do it and keep
needing to returned home and be taken in by the gracious re-welcoming
and reinstatement. The invitation in the book powerfully stated that we
are to become as the Father, humbling ourselves to welcome and extend
grace to those who left us. That invitation has become my dance to the past year and it’s been painful and stretching.
In
the summer of 2015, we as a family prayer virtually every day for the
opportunity and calling to move to Eastern Washington to be regional
director. We prayerfully and courageously accepted, after being
convinced that God was calling us. I started September 2015 and we moved
January 31, 2016. February 1, Dietrich changed his mind and no longer
wanted to accept this new calling, he wanted out.
His life became one
marked with deep sadness, obstinance,
anger, and discouragement from family and school. He rejected
counseling, advice, input, invitations, to believe and hope, became
inconsolable. Summer brought relief, yet mid fall his pain returned with
even deeper emotion. This remained and hit its deepest low before,
during and after spring break. He became coldly rude, unwilling to obey,
and returned to destructive patterns we’d seen in the spring. We began
to use a safe hold, which brought hatred and more anger. Easter, he
began to repeat phrases for thirty minutes straight,” When are we done
with this trip?” He did this three
times and I took him to the hospital. From then until early June, he
did not speak to me, which included twenty-seven days in a row. Where he
completely shut me out of his life. This was deeply frustrating,
hurtful, infuriating inefficient, and somewhat fascinating and
impressive how skilled he was at it. So many times, when I spent time
with him, asked him questions, made requests, tried to engage with
him, yet was met with complete rejection, ignored, and disrespected. I
literally wanted to punish him, hurt him, grab his face and force him to
respond to me, acknowledge me, and have a functional relationship with
me. I wanted to demand him to love me again.
Then I considered how
this has been a parallel to my relationship with God. How I shut Him
out, ignored His voice, pretending He wasn’t there as I did as I felt.
God asked other people to speak to me, as I did through Janna and Tanya.
I realized that it was my turn to be the “father.” To ache in the
heart, yet continue to wait for my son to “come home.” To initiate
knocking on his door, love while he was still in sin, to forgive him,”
…for he knows not what he does…” and offer unconditional love with no
response. It seemed to be foolish, unsuccessful, enabling posture to
choose to not force or discipline, or punish him for his hurtful,
vindictive, manipulative, stance against me. So many intelligent people
urged me to not just let him get away with this. I agreed that my
passive response, yet lovingly initiating proximity, being “for” him and
showing love, was potentially a losing formula. Yet, it’s the one God
showed me and the worth.
In the midst of our
rejection, rebellion, and ignoring, He forgave He paid the price, He
rose again, and initiated all the more, giving power and authority to
others to share good news, truth, and love with folks like me who
otherwise had shut it out with our lives. This was the model set before
me and one that I had to pray and with the support of Jesus, close
friends, mentors, and Tanya, to live out towards Dietrich. I felt
unsuccessful. Days and weeks passed with continued unsuccessfulness and
ongoing rejection. I wanted to abandon the approach; hit the eject button for this fight of futility, my gut and my mind compelled me to grab his head, yell, and demand he stops and just recognize me again and do what
I say. Yet, Christ’s love compelled me to keep initiating him, loving,
being close and waiting for him to return from the distant land, back to
his father.
Last
week, the return began. Although there was no speech prepared, no major
brokenness or apology, he returned to me. I asked him a question about
the sunset and about what movie he’d like to see next. He answered. We
talked. We laughed, I entered my Netflix account info in the iPad and we
watched Mastermind.
No fattened calf was barbecued, the elder daughter and I looked at each
other with dramatic, widened eyes of disbelief, silently mouthing words
of awe and delight. I just rolled with the rest of the evening and
week. It’s been 10 days now and it feels like “home” again. I pray that
we all recognize the need we each have to give and receive grace and that we love because Jesus first love us and that would be enough to love others without condition.
Jeffrey R Huber
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