coming home

thoughts on war, fathers and running away.

spurred from a video on facebook.

1.) this video was sweet. yes, i cried. i always cry. i cried during the first clip. that's normal.

2.) i don't understand why we have to make the men of our families do this. i don't understand why we have to cause families such heartache and strain (emotionally, relationally...I can't count the number of boys i babysat as a kid who were unfortunate to train because their father was gone a whole heck of a lot) in order to "promote peace" -- the clip that really got me started on this one was the segment where the little boy ran into daddy's arms while he still held a gun.

love and war in a single frame?

2a.) it's almost like we need this. we need videos like this, we need closure. we need this emotional porn to make us feel like those few families that get their daddies back are okay. We're okay for doing this, and see, the families are back to normal and their bonds are even stronger.

the videos with dead or maimed soldiers, too. we force ourselves to think of them as honorable. what debt did they owe us that we coerced them to think they owed us their lives? that they fought for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...we'll extend that to religious and economic freedoms...is our foremost cry.

I can't help but wonder if we are trusting our government too much to provide the things of the world that we should not depend on. You could take it even further from physical rights to marriage rights and etc. To quote a tweet I saw online by Cole Nesmith: "Show me even once where Jesus petitioned the government to validate or support his message."

In the separation of Church and State, instead of allowing the Church to be our State, we've sought the authority of our State as our Church. As Keith Watson once said, "the dichotomy between the secular and the spiritual is false." you have some mix of the two. it's how you live.

3.) all that said, it's a beautiful picture when a child runs into a father's arms. some are hesitant, they haven't seen their daddy up close in months, if ever. some are uninhibited. passionate, running, crying, jumping. some grab him and wrap themselves around daddy, others just kinda hang there while he picks them up.

i guess, in the same way, we respond differently to God. sometimes we run. sometimes we wait. sometimes we're unsure if it's really him.

it always makes me think of the prodigal child.

especially now because I feel like I'm there. I'm a prodigal. I don't know what I want.

And sometimes I just want to be picked up.

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