Reconciliation: a Father and son, and father, story

Breathing heavily, I had hit the peak of my sprint. Though tired, my form remained intact for the final half-mile stretch. Judging by the immeasurable significance this day held for me, the energy boost almost seemed to be by divine appointment. As I rounded the final corner, I could see her. I do not often get worked up over a woman, but she was beautiful. And she was waiting for me.

Drive with the knees. Kick out the stride. Chest out, back straight. Arms loose. Digging down deep, I pushed through the pain and refused to let up all the way through to the end, number 33. Exhausted, I bent over for a brief moment before looking up to receive her inquiring eyes. "Don't close the gate!, please," I managed with a hoarse urgency. Standing there, pulling for breath, I allowed my guitar and bookbag to fall to the hard tile floor of the airport terminal...

17 minutes earlier, I sat comfortably at my gate waiting for the next flight to Cleveland. While engrossed in a thought-provoking book by Dr. Charles Fielding which called for preachers to heal and healers to preach, I had not noticed another afternoon slip away. Once more my mind began racing as I put down the book to rest my eyes. Uncertainty. Joy. Fear. Anticipation. I could not escape the emotional whirlwind as I retraced my steps through the last 16 years...

As a child, sin and divorce had separated me from my earthly father and created a chasm between us for the majority of my life. Malice, slander, and deceit had driven the gulf even deeper. After the divorce, my mother had no intention of allowing him to be a real influence in my life. He fought hard and never gave up on me, but it would be many more years before the truth was revealed. For a child, it is difficult, if not impossible, to love and trust a father who seems so far away.

All too often, the world sends wolves dressed as sheep, and even shepherds, to depict their own stories as truth. For me, the world used my mother. A little lie here. Some small gossip there. Twist these facts just a smidge. This is the way of the world. The world infects, strips away innocence, and forces a faulty paradigm of thinking on fledgling minds. At work are countless cohorts demanding the right to be the sole proprietor of truth for you and me.

This way of life led to anger and bitterness. At the right time, my relationship with the heavenly Father was reconciled. Yet, even with this restored relationship, the struggle remained. All too often, as a young believer, I ran back to the flesh and a prison of anger and bitterness that awaited me. My mind had been infiltrated. I had been given the template of how to think and, therefore, understood my father to be the man whom my mother had continually portrayed to me as a child. The world was so often winning this battle for my mind.

College served as my emancipation; it was here that I was freed from my two masters, anger and bitterness. I was finally enjoying true discipleship and living amongst those whom I knew would challenge and teach me. Then, by stealth, the world crept in once more to influence my impressionable mind. I was learning to let go of anger and bitterness, but the world convinced me that it was easier to exchange these for a new master, indifference. The family that raised me was a worldly trainwreck; I knew this from experience. But, on the other hand, my dad and his family were probably just as bad. As a college student, this is how I lived. Indifference toward the concept of family. Indifference toward the pain I denied. Indifference toward the unknown truth that would probably never come to light.

Reconciliation, like most things in life, is not completed instantly. What is most important in life takes time. By the gracious choice of the Father, the drawing of the Spirit, and the blood of Jesus Christ, I am fully reconciled at the end. As I walk with my Father through life, this process continues to take time and require endurance. With each passing year, the desire for my Father is strengthened as He continues to transform my heart and guide my steps. Reconciling the most important relationship will be a lifelong process, but it is well worth the wait to fully know the Father and His love for me. This life is easily sacrificed in order to be made complete in Christ.

Over the years, I often wondered what reconciliation with my earthly father would look like. I eventually realized that the continual process of being reconciled with my heavenly Father (also known as sanctification) had set a blueprint for me to follow with my earthly father. The process would require true love that can not be known but through Jesus. One day, the Spirit laid on my heart to write a letter. I pondered, for over a year, what words might be contained inside that envelope addressed to my father. The truth of who he was remained unknown to me. But his needs were no different than the needs of any other man who has walked the earth. Just as I desired to be reconciled to my father, I knew he needed to be reconciled to his Father.

Finally, I wrote it. And mailed it one day in March. He should know who I was. He should know where I had been. He should know my intentions. And most importantly, He should know of my Father with whom I had long been reconciled.

The blueprint was completely adequate, as well as the Cornerstone on whom it had been founded. The love of Jesus that had changed my life had also changed my father's life. By the grace of God, our next meeting would be as two new creations. As the process of being reconciled with my heavenly Father continues, the process of being reconciled to my earthly father now begins.

At precisely 3:33 my curiousity was peaked. It seemed odd that I was sitting in a terminal rather than on a plane at that point. I approached the desk and asked when we would begin to board for the 3:50 flight. The news was grim. The correct gate for the connection to Cleveland was not gate C26. In fact, I was scheduled to be at gate F33. And from where I stood, gate F33 was only accessible by taking a tram to the opposite side of the airport. Trusting my Father for the next steps, I sprinted off to meet my father.