Sunday, November 7, 2010

To Be the Prodigal's Father

Quite some time ago (maybe April) a girl in our ministry shared with me a secret, a struggle, she was in a very tough spot. It happened to be a struggle close to my heart. She told me that in the previous months she'd had a miscarriage. Her and her boyfriend had since broken up, and a child was not an ideal addition to her life. But that didn't seem like it should make the pain of loss any less real. She talked, we cried, I prayed, and we helped her find the right way to tell her ex-boyfriend.
Later that same day, I began replaying the story. Things weren't completely adding up. The ultrasound picture she showed me didn't match her time line, and her responses to a few of my questions were not he replies of a girl who medically had interaction with a doctor regarding a miscarriage. But how awful! How could I possibly accuse her of being anything less than honest, if indeed she were being completely honest, what a wound. So, I didn't.

I prayed, and had a few friends praying as well. I prayed for an opportunity to ask her about it. I made a coffee date. Halfway through she got up to use the restroom and I prayed then for the words to say. I just don't do confrontation- I needed divine words. And I also decided that if it didn't come now I would drop it. I would continue to pray that God would work in her heart and bring her to a confession but I was done worrying about a confrontation.
And that's what happened. That was maybe June or July.

I've thought about it since then. I've thought about how much it hurt me to know, that she would come and sit on my couch with a cup of tea & tears and lie to me about a pain that was still all too real to me (I wasn't yet pregnant with this kicking little girl). Why did she feel the need to confide in me about this? I was hurt, and legitimately wronged.

I still wanted to know the truth. I wanted an apology. I thought maybe an explanation would make it not so bad (but that's not true). Wes kept me in check. I should want to see her come to know the truth, she's a new believer and if this really is a lie, it's a huge block in her relationship with Christ. She must be suffering to fabricate such a scenario. She needs to be restored in her relationship to God, and to her boyfriend. My feelings were just a passing causality, not the real wound. That was still hard to swallow.

Thursday, she called and asked if she could come out after work-- she had something to talk to me about. Moments before her arrival I still struggled with the need for her to know how much she had hurt me.

We sat and chatted, then she got to the point. She confessed that the whole thing had been a lie. Every single bit of it was made up. She talked for a while, and I listened. After her apology, I explained to her that I had been suspicious since day 1. I confessed to her that I had not yet asked her about it, because I couldn't do it with a right heart. And as I explained it to her, I found it easier to focus on the fact that she needed to be healed and restored from this, rather than how she'd hurt me. That her broken relationship with God was the primary victim here. We talked for quite a while more about it. Talked about the others that needed to know the truth, talked about her therapist, and how helpful therapy had been in this. It was a good chat. I told her that I forgive her, and I do.

Yesterday I was listening to Andrew Peterson (who else?) sing about the Prodigal's father. And realized...how cool that we get to play that part? How cool that as friends, sisters, mentors, and wives we can play the role of the Gracious Father. We get to excitedly run to her as she sulks home, realizing her wrongs. What I wanted was my hurts to be validated. But God doesn't ask that of us. We don't pay for lying. We repent from lying, admitting our wrongs. But setting aside our pride is no comparison to the lawful price we should pay.

Relationships and people are tough work. But tough work has such a great pay off. Why am I so afraid to do it? It feels so good to act in the way God acts. To give the grace I've been given. Not in a prideful way. But in the same way it feels good to watch your mom open that Christmas gift you chose and carefully wrapped just for her, knowing its perfect. Knowing that this is how it works.

So there. After months of not knowing what to post to Friday Prayer, a post. I hope it finds you all well, and encourages you!
Love,
Elaine