A Letter from my Father

Do I have any mail today?

When I was younger, handwritten letters were much more common than they are today. Some were very ordinary and matter-of-fact, while others changed your life in deep, unexpected ways. Take the following letter from my father for example. As you read it, imagine if it were addressed to you instead of me.

Dear Matt,

Have you been getting my letters? I have written to you quite a few times, but you haven't replied. I'm not mad, but it would be nice to hear back now & then. How are you?

I am so curious to hear about your life — to hear you share details about what’s going well and where things may have been hard. And on my end I have so much more I'd like to talk to you about. But most of all, I really miss spending time together.

I liked it when you used to come by the house, and we would catch up over meals, laugh and cry together, retell old stories, enjoy meaningful music, and occasionally welcome new friends into our circle. Sorry if it began to feel a bit stuffy as our circle grew and people began trying too hard to organize things … they meant well, but that’s not the way I wanted it to feel.

So let's catch up real soon, okay? My place or yours, day or night – let me know when & where and I’ll be there. As I’ve told you before … I am with you always.

Your Friend and Father,

God

I chose to walk far from God for many years. How sad! Meanwhile, he waited ever-so-patiently for me to return. Such faithful love! Why was he so gentle and forgiving with me?

Despite being brought up in a church tradition and proclaiming my faith publicly during my confirmation ceremony when I was eleven, I had mostly drifted away by my college years. Spiritual seeds were planted during my early years, but I was essentially living my life as if God didn't exist. I didn’t talk to him or listen to him, and when I visited his house it was a rather rote experience in my heart. I deserved to get a blunt letter from him, rebuking me and perhaps writing me off. But instead, God waited patiently for his prodigal son to hit bottom and finally begin to turn back toward him.

I suppose I first started hearing God's gentle call to return to him during the second semester of my freshman year at MIT. But it wasn't in the form of the imagined letter above. My mom had died the day I flew home for Christmas break, and I had no awareness of the magnitude of its impact on me. Back at school a month later, two close friends told me I had changed too much, and our friendship ended painfully. I was befuddled – I had no idea what they were talking about. I was a quiet mess inside, yet I was perhaps the only one who didn't know it.

Around that time, a campus missionary named Gary came along and was a friendly encourager to my secretly hurting soul. He gave me my first bible, which I began to read and highlight. And he invited me into a circle of friends who were reading and talking about the bible and about life. While I didn't feel comfortable continuing with that group, it was another helpful seed planted along the path of my faith journey, especially since it got me reading the bible for the first time. In it, I found letter after letter from God.

I still have that bible. Its sparse highlights and underlines show that I had read through the book of Matthew and a few of the subsequent letters written by Jesus' friends. I now understand that those are actually all letters from God that he wrote to each of us. That he wrote to me. Letters from my father.

In one of those letters, two verses stand out prominently because I had not only underlined them, but I had also drawn in bold ink a thick box around them as well.

Why did these two verses stand out more than any others? I think a childhood lie deep in my heart had especially resonated with them. As I understand it now, the apostle Paul was warning some early Christians not to get too full of themselves, but rather to be quietly diligent and to focus humbly on winning hearts to follow God. But in those same verses my clueless, broken heart instead heard an affirmation of my faulty life strategy. "Matt, it is good to go it alone. Don't make waves. Win respect through flawless, untiring work. Don't be dependent on anybody." It's sad how often we hear what we want to hear rather than what is being said.

But decades later, after much healing, I now know that God says, "I love you, Matt. Come to me when you are weary, and I will give you rest. I gave my life to save yours, so you can trust me. And don't worry about trying so hard to be perfect. I made you just the way you are. Sure, I want you to use your gifts and talents to love and serve others, and to try to live in holy and clean ways. But most of all I want you to walk close with me, as both my son and my friend. And I want you to know and love others as well, helping them and letting them help you. All imperfect, but overflowing my love back and forth in perfectly beautiful ways. Do you get it? I did not make you to go it alone. You are in my family now – my very big and wonderful family. So pull up a chair at my kitchen table, and let's chat. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Oh that's right, you're a black tea with stevia guy."

That is the true sound of my father's heart.

It took me several decades to truly begin to receive God's "letter" and take it to heart and begin a real relationship with him. My prayer is that you are already well into your own, similar journey. But if instead you find yourself walking solo these days, may I join God in inviting you to open your mail from him? Your letter from God may differ from mine, but no doubt it ends the same way …

Let's catch up real soon, okay? My place or yours, day or night – let me know when & where and I’ll be there. As I’ve told you before … I am with you always.

With Fatherly Love,

God

[scroll down for author’s reflections and some questions to ponder]