On the Prodigals in Our Lives

This post is dedicated to the memory of Billie Gail Dowdy Griffey
who left us June 13th, 2020

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate.  For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ ” Luke 15:20b-24a ESV

First let me start by saying that by the grace of God I don’t have any prodigal children and never have. At the same time, I doubt that any truly caring parent who has even a passing acquaintance with the Parable of the Prodigal Son that Jesus taught as their children passed through their turbulent teens into their tumultuous twenties did not at least experience some measure of anxiety at their passage.

Before the main content of this post, a word about the story Christmas at Shadowlands’ Edge

The story is now completely done. I am still working through it looking for typos, missing words–which is a biggie for me–and rephrasing things here and there but there is nothing left to add to it. At the moment it is 64,475 words long which translate to about 225 printed pages. While I laid out my expectations for this story in my previous post, I feel an obligation of sorts to at least submit it to a literary agent. I will speak to what actually has to take place to get a book published by a traditional publishing house in a future post but one of the things required to get published is a platform. This consists of many things but for now that means a social media presence. That is in part why this blog was created.

I could use two things right now as I begin the process of preparing the documents required by the literary agent. If possible, I need folks who read these posts to comment on them here at this site. Also, if possible, I would ask that you tell other folks about this site if you feel it is worthy of their time. The literary agent will be looking here for both numbers and comments. Second, I frankly need a couple of folks to read this book. I can make it available in PDF format for downloading to anyone who would like to do so. If you read the book and feel it is worthy of your time and respect, I would appreciate it if you could tell others on social media about it. This is a major part of building a platform and any help would be appreciated

Now, back to today’s post.

I will be quoting again from Christmas at Shadowland’s Edge here. I might as well use material that is already written that says what I feel I want to say on a given matter. I hope you find this an adequate treatment of the subject. The quote is a little long but comprises the remainder of the post. To set the context, this is a letter written from an aging father to his–unbeknownst to him dying–prodigal daughter. His wife (Emily) and son (Russell Jr.) have preceded him in death. The letter is strategically placed somewhere that he hopes she will someday stumble across it. Most of the content is applicable to either a son or daughter. And for any prodigals who might read it, the way to or back to our heavenly Father is mapped out for you.

My Dearest and Most Beloved Pamela, it began:
Nature and habit did not fit me to say the things that your mama or you needed to hear. The feelings were there but the words would not come often as I tried to say them. Emily understood that and deduced the words from look or touch or deed. After her death my tongue was loosed to say them but at our last meeting words were futile. Yet the words remained unsaid, and the burden of their being unsaid never left me night or day.

After I came to Christ it occurred to me that though I could not ask for your forgiveness in person I could at least do so this way so that if in the will of God you came to this letter and I had gone on to mama and Rusty you would still know that though there is nothing that I need to forgive you for, you are forgiven and to ask you to forgive me for all the things that I know I need your forgiveness for. Even if you know I’m dead forgiving me can bring peace to your heart as it has mine.

I fear where life will have led you when you read this. You are bright and ambitious so I believe you will have made your way through alright, but you had the disadvantage of being reared in a loving home where at least your mother and brother were Christians. You will have found out by now that many with whom you associate did not have that disadvantage. I say disadvantage in your case because familiarity breeds contempt and there were so many voices clamoring for your allegiance that you despised your upbringing and longed for that which could only harm you in the end.

Perhaps you are acquainted with the parable of the Prodigal Son. While that parable pertains primarily to Israel’s rejection of its Messiah, Jesus chose it, I believe, because it resonates so with the human experience. When that son asked his father for his share of his father’s inheritance he was essentially saying’ drop dead dad, I’m out of here’. That is not altogether different from the defiance you hurled at me when you stood up and cursed me openly at your mother’s funeral. Such an attitude was a likely predictor of serious consequences ahead. For the Prodigal Son it meant being forsaken by friends and desiring to eat pig’s food before he came to his senses.

Having abandoned your upbringing, the Christian teaching of your mother and the profession of faith you made when you were eight (not to mention the Lord you have professed to know), you will likely have plunged headlong into sin. The Lord may have intervened to stop the plunge, but He was not obligated to do so. And if He does not intervene, you will be destroyed by sin. But assuming He has been gracious to you, you will still have to live with the certain consequences. First you may develop habits or dependencies that will haunt your steps all the rest of your life. Secondly, you will regret your wanderings all the rest of your life. Yes, you will be forgiven, but the wounds will always be there to be inflamed by the enemy when you get too close to Christ.

Christian comedians often joke about the days we 'sow our wild oats' being the ones where we get our testimony. Pamela, you didn’t need that kind of testimony. The cost is just too high. If I could have pushed a button or flipped a switch to prevent you from going into the far country I would have. But, since the Lord Almighty Himself will not do that, I certainly could not. The decisions and the choices you have made have either helped you to have a good life or they have scarred you for life.

Someone has wisely written, “Sin will take you farther than you ever wanted to go, it will keep you longer than you ever wanted to stay, and it will cost you more than you ever wanted to pay.”

Maybe as you read this sin has extracted its exorbitant price. You will have certainly lost your innocence and perhaps even your health. You may even be dying as you read it and though we are all traversing this mortal coil to the grave I mean that you may have a specific illness or condition and death is imminent.

But know this dearest Pamela; that the Lord Jesus Christ stands ready to forgive you right now. No matter what you have done if you are willing to confess your sin to Him and forsake it and believe that He died on the cross for your sins, that He was buried and that He rose again on third day—not spiritually but bodily— and that at this very moment He is standing at the right hand of God the Father making intercession for His own—He will save you. Believe this with all your heart and you will pass from death unto life and no matter what consequences your sins have produced you will know that someday you will be reunited with Emily, Rusty and me—but more importantly we will all be rejoicing at the feet of Jesus.

Wherever you have gone and whatever choices you have made you still have my love until I draw earth’s final breath. In the meantime, I commend you to Him who loves you so much more than I ever could even if I could spend every moment of life and every effort doing so.

With Love Forever and Always,

Daddy

On why GrumpyOldIntrovert?

First the obvious…

GrumpyOldIntrovert:
Grumpy? Just ask any of my four grandchildren who live here in my home with their parents. ‘Nuff said…

GrumpyOldIntrovert:
Lord willing, I will hit my three score and ten this June. With today’s extended life expectancies, I guess I could say “older” but that does not have that nice crisp sound to it that Old does.

GrumpyOldIntrovert:
I have a lifetime membership in this club. However, until recently I would have said I was anti-social. When I attended social gatherings with Gail, she was what I would call my saving grace. I could go anywhere with her and be accepted because everybody loved her. But now with her gone I realize that I am not anti-social, I just don’t mingle well. So, yeah, Introvert is a better description.

So where did the name come from?

Well, I didn’t go to someone’s website and put in a bunch of information that wasn’t any of their business so their site could generate an internet domain name suggestion for me. I still refuse to tell Facebook or Google my birthdate (though anybody could likely find it on the internet) and I have misinformed certain medical sites of that as well.

The idea for the name came to me organically when the idea for doing a blog did and is related to something that happened over and over again–the idea for the blog, not the name– when I was running the sound board at church before first Gail’s and now my health issues put a stop to it.

For all the years I was there running sound I had young parents walk in front of me carrying or walking their children out of the sanctuary. Sometimes they just needed to make the euphemistic pitstop but most of the time it was because as “Sons of Adam and daughters of Eve” those little souls needed a bit of redirection as their Adamic nature’s kept rising seemingly at the most inappropriate times.

As these caring but frustrated young parents would come past my little desk at the back of the sanctuary, they would often scurry past and sometimes the mothers would blush as they did so. I can’t say what was going through their minds at the time but remembering those days myself I am sure they were thinking that everybody was annoyed by the disruptions these little ones were causing and that this guy in the sound booth was having his view of the pulpit blocked as they went by.

I have no doubt that some in the congregation might have been annoyed by the actions of these children, but I am also confident that most of those good people who had children of their own were sympathetic rather than annoyed. I know I was. And I wanted to just stop them in their tracks and tell them so.

So, for a couple of you who may read this who passed my little introvert’s haven over those years, I want to you to know that I felt your pain. I also waved at your little ones as you flew by if they looked at me. Also know that I applauded you for wanting to raise your children in the congregation instead of handing them off to strangers doing “Children’s Church” (whatever that is) no matter how well-intentioned those good folks were. For the record our church did not make Children’s Church available though there was a nursery/play area set aside for those who needed it.

Anyway, it was this scenario that prompted me to start a blog and GrumpyOldIntrovert was the name that came to me as the idea for the blog took shape.

So, yeah, if your children are being disruptive go ahead and take them out of the Sancturary to properly address the issue. Sure, some may scowl but ignore them, they have other issues anyway. But I believe most of the older folks in the congregation who have raised their own children in the church as you are doing will be fine with what’s going on. They may even be praying for you–not that you would leave of course, the scowlers may be doing that–but that you would have patience and peace in this all too brief time in your lives.

And if you have to pass the sound booth on your way and it has a GrumpyOldIntrovert in it don’t worry about him. He has long ago learned how to listen attentively to the message while doing a number of other things at the same time so your trip past his outpost will not bother him. However, if as you pass by, you notice that he is dozing off please give him a gentle nudge and wake him because that means that a loud snore is imminent and that WOULD be disruptive.