Second Chances

Just picked up the new book from Max Lucado called “Second Chances, stories of grace.”  I think at my stage in the game, that’s was exactly the play being called, right?

If you’ve never read Max Lucado before, you are definitely in for a treat.  He’s so engaging and easy to read and he’s got such a great way of moving your emotions.  It was a particularly difficult day here.  Saturdays used to be such a busy time — going to games, yard work, taking care of the animals, hiking, fishing with the family.  Today was spent at the counselor and walking around the swap meet.  Then a very slow afternoon spent working on the computer at some writing and doing a bit of TV watching and then finally going to my routine Saturday night dinner at a local mom and pop place where the weekend bartender and I chat while I drink my Diet Coke and read my book.

I was already a bit discouraged going in.  Just a long, slow, lonely day.  The normal weekend bartender wasn’t there — so even the chat I looked forward to all day wouldn’t be happening. Not trying to depress you guys, just explain that it really was one of those long days.

Crawled in bed a bit defeated around 11 PM and started reading in Max’s book about the woman at the well.  He tells the story in such a way that you feel like you are there and you see it with completely different eyes.

As he’s going through the story, he relates another story of a little lonely girl in a class his friend taught to disadvantaged kids.  Barbara had never spoken in class before and the first time she talked was after Max’s friend had discussed Heaven.  Her first words were “Is Heaven for girls like me?”  He speaks of this question as her prayer and talks of how Jesus would answer it — in the same way he answers the woman at the well.  I’m quoting the book below:

“A prayer to do what God does best: take the common and make it spectacular…To take a pebble and kill a Goliath…To take three spikes and a wooden beam and make them the hope of humanity.  To take a rejected woman and make her a missionary.”

That’s what I am.  I’m the rejected one.  I’m like this woman at the well.  Like little Barbara asking “Is Heaven for me?”  Is God’s hope for me?  Is there an end to the rejection and the alienation?  Is there  a healing for these relationships.

My friend Charles told me this week:  Pray the bold prayer.  And he did.  For me.

Dads — there is hope.  As long as we have a God who makes the insignificant matter.  However much we are belittled and attacked and alienated from our kids — whatever words are said, whatever actions done — don’t lose hope in the God who waits for us to pray the Bold Prayer.  And then relishes in his opportunity to answer it.


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