The
world came and promised us bliss; instant happiness without adhering to rules. We
were wooed, swept off our feet and so we dashed off logic and reason and
followed impulse and off we went, to enjoy this bliss. We were free at last;
nothing and no one holding us back.
And
so we experienced utopia, and wondered why He said thou shalt not eat when that
little serpent was right after all, such pleasures, such goodness. We sure
don’t need anything else… well, until we realized that after every party, came a
dense form of emptiness, an abyss of pitch black that we could barely recognize
ourselves, the people who hours ago had so much fun…
The
sadness engulfed us like never before and we felt used, dejected… but the
morning came and like opium, we were at it again. Ah, it was just our minds
playing tricks, see the world is still beautiful, we just need to live large!
But,
the whimpering sadness came back, stronger this time. Soon, we found no
pleasure in the so-called bliss. The morning was not a promise of the happiness
that lay ahead, rather it was a reminder of how broken we are.
And
so we thought to ourselves, maybe there’s more. Let us go back to the world and
ask for the abundant living earlier promised.
“Aha!”
said the world with an air of pomposity, what you see is what you get. You
should have known better that the thief comes but to steal, kill and destroy.
We are that thief. And so forget about the abundant living, it doesn’t get more
abundant than this.
Meanwhile,
the heart of a Father went out to his lost son, and daily He fixed His eye to
the same road that granted us what we thought was freedom. Day by day, the
Father held on to the forlorn hope that the son would return; that the son
would realize that the life of ease so promised was nothing but a fallacy…
Feeling
duped and dejected, we came back. The words the world told us were still
ringing in our ears! We have been fooled, this is not bliss; this is eternal
condemnation. The so-called pleasures were but fleeting, leaving behind them
the cold waves of anger, brokenness and pain. O that we would go back home!
Yes!
We can go back home, we can say that we have learnt our lesson; that the grass
is not at all greener on the other side. We can go with our carefully crafted
speech and seek to be even the doorkeeper, just as long as we are free from
this chain of deceit…
As
we round up our flimsy, rope of sand promise, something in the Father’s heart
moves, as if a joyous pang of a hope finally fulfilling… excited, the Father
gets up, sees a little dirty figure approaching. The excitement wheels are
turning. Could this be?
Stretching
the eyes further, the Father sees what he has hoped to see all this time and
holding his garment in hand, He flees, running after the prodigal. Before we
can even mutter our empty and sweet nothings, the Father throws His rams of
love around us and then in that instant show of deep affection, we realize that
this is the bliss we forfeited. We hewn ourselves cisterns that could hold no
water yet left behind a fountain of living water.
As the events of our foolishness flash before
us, we can do nothing but cry, cry our hearts out and mutter repeatedly, “Am
sorry! Am sorry!”
But
the Father does not lay it to our charge. He grabs us and in that instant show,
we are lost in His love. He erases the tears and takes us in as if the events
of the previous moment, when all puffed up with rebellion and a desire for
freedom we left home, never happened.
Behold
what manner of love, to be fully known [flaws, empty promises, sin-stricken
past], yet to be fully loved!
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