With Father’s Day this weekend, I’m reminded of the fathers in my life. Both my father and father-in-law. I remember their impact. And, I remember my heavenly Father as well. A father who runs to welcome us back home.
(This article was originally posted on 8-4-23)
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A Father Who Runs
I think I had just turned six years old when I got my first bike. On Christmas. Over the next few days and weeks, I learned to ride. First, with my father running alongside me while holding the seat. Then, on my own, shakily. I didn’t become very confident until later. In the early days, you remember how it was, everything caused me to simply take my feet off the pedals, lay down the bike, and jump off. It seemed a good way to avoid trouble, or crashing, until it wasn’t.
One day I was riding around the block with my sister. Just as we were coming to our street and about to make a left turn, I saw a car coming. It is weird, isn’t it, even at that age, how time slows down when you are scared, or in a traumatic situation? That was how it was that day. I saw the car and it seemed to be moving very fast, and yet, in slow motion at the same time. It was a big car. An old Lincoln, or Cadillac, or maybe a big Buick. I noticed the car was a convertible and I heard music blaring from its radio. All that information gathered in a split second in the mind of a six-year-old.
Logical thing to do: Simply turn the corner and avoid the car. But I froze. Completely! I didn’t even lay down the bike and jump off. Instead, while I was in a frozen state, my bike coasted to the center of the street and tipped over. With me on it, of course. So, there I was in the middle of the street with a speeding car racing toward me. I hear the sound of screeching tires and, the next thing I know, I’m looking up at the bumper with a big tire next to me. I still remember the heat of the hot engine over me. I had come within inches of death.
In addition to the screeching tires, the hot engine, and the hovering bumper and tire, I saw something else: My dad. From my angle under the front of that car I could clearly see my front door. Within a millisecond of the sound of screeching tires, my dad came through that door. He moved faster than I’d ever seen. It was almost as if he never touched the ground. One step. Two steps. And there he was kneeling next to me.
Our dads are imperfect and fallible. Yet, the Bible often compares God to human fathers. Why? I think the reason isn’t very complicated. We know, as imperfect as we are, that fathers do whatever they can to take care of their children. Of course, there are exceptions. Some men are just bad dads. For most of us though, we want the best for our children and we do whatever we can to protect them. Just like my father rushing from the house to be next to me when I was nearly hit by a car.
One of my favorite stories in the Bible about a loving father is the parable that Jesus teaches about a prodigal son. This father, like my dad, even runs to his son. It is a beautiful picture. (see Luke 15:11-21)
This son is anything but loving to his father. He, in fact, is disrespectful and inconsiderate to his father. He asks for his inheritance before his time. He leaves and turns his back on his father and family. He squanders all that his father has given him. When he has hit bottom, when he has nowhere else to go, the son returns home.
When he returns, you’d expect an “I told you so” or “What are you doing back here?” The son deserves nothing but chastisement from this father. Instead, we read, “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.” (Luk 15:20)
It may not be easy for us to get the full impact of this picture. This father is an important man. He is a patriarchal figure. He had an image and a reputation to uphold. He would have been expected to be stern rather than accepting when his son returned. Yet, we see him waiting and longing for his son’s return. Perhaps, on a hill so he could see his son while he was “still a long way off.”
No scolding. No harsh words. This father only has compassion for his son who has returned home. And, this is what gets me every time I read this story, “he ran to his son.” Here is a picture of a dignified man lifting his robes around his waist so he could run. Holding nothing back. How must this son have felt to see his father running toward him?
Way back in the day, Benny Hester sang the song “When God Ran”:
“Almighty God the great I am
Immovable rock omnipotent powerful
Awesome lord
Victorious warrior commanding king of kings
Mighty conqueror and the only time
The only time I ever saw him run
Was when He ran to me” (1)
When Jesus tells this story of a prodigal son, He is clear that the father represents God. Our Heavenly Father. He is not one who sits eager to judge us as some might think, but rather, a loving Father eager for us to return to Him. He is God, as Peter puts it, who “Is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” (2 Pet 3:9)
God has run to us through the cross of Jesus. All that we have to do is accept His loving embrace.
Dear David.
Thank you so much for this. My own Dad died in February this year and I miss him dreadfully. My children’s Dad died 14 years ago. I have been avoiding anything to do with Father’s Day this year as it felt too painful. Reading your words, however, has helped remind me of all the wonderful memories I have of both my husband and my Dad. And that they were both a gift from God, my Heavenly Father, to let me know how loved I am even when I felt unlovable. My Dad would have run to me, like your Dad did. Thank you again 🙏
God is so good. Thank you for sharing!!