That was odd . . . I rubbed my eyes. I peered into the lighted water of the Jacuzzi only to be met with the big eyes and grin of a very furry puppy! It kept on looking up at me, I couldn't walk away. I reached on in and pulled out what ended up being a squirmy kitten. I did my best to hold it high above my head, as Goldyn bounced and jumped around me to land his paws on it . . . whew! The next thing I knew, there was ol' Quasimoto, running his best towards me. But between him and me was the widest span of mucky, muddy water. Quasi was weighted down, with his shaggy hair slick with the black tarry stuff. I sensed his fear as I saw him trying his best to get the sticky goo off his feet, so he would gain some traction. I heard my self shouting for those around him to help get across. Help him, help him! Guide him here to me! He dived on in the murky muck, bobbing up and down, turning into a blackened blob of slime. The next thing I knew I had my arms around him, running down the unpaved road. I pulled the hood back from his head and met the crooked tooth grin of my son when he was just a boy of ten. . .
There once was a boy born into the home of a loving Mom and Dad. He was the prince of the palace, the hope of the future. Effort and time were spent to insure him the knowledge and value of life, work, as well relationships with others and God. Certainly, far from being perfect, the home attempted to model love, acceptance, and accountability. It hoped to be a foundation for his days ahead. . .
But he didn't see it quite like that. He had a more cynical view that questioned and doubted reality put before him. He would bottle up his doubts and questions, instead of trusting and reaching out to those who brought him into life to start. His hero was himself, "God isn't here". His arrogance would move him out. Unfortunately, the more he moved away, the more that he forsook, the more that he was trapped. Stuck in his own super hero's skin, he wouldn't be able to even save himself. . .
He stands out in the portrait, taller and leaner than all others. His desire is to follow his father's pathway, as he points his feet in the very same direction. He shares long arms that match those of his father, arms that are within the reach of help . But his father looks away for now, because it hurts to watch a person self destruct. Instead, he hopes for the day that the son will finally give up on his idle selfish ways and be the man that he always hoped he'd be. The mother is still perplexed, and wonders how did this Spiderman ever come to be. She didn't think she raised a superhero child. . .
But, if that's your call to be a savior and hero to the world, why give up? Why forsake all the gifts that you've been given? Why so reluctant to just say yes to faith? There is One who's greater than you that you have pushed aside. Heroes lead when they know their strengths and weaknesses, they're willing to open their hearts for critical examination, not just from mentors, but from the One who gave them life. Why hide behind the costume of goodness, when your actions have been selfishly unkind? Why so reluctant, Spiderman?
Maybe days have to be dark for the Hope to shine. Portraits have to be still for words to write. Dreams have to be real for memories to ignite. But when will you come to your senses? Spiderman without his power is just a colorful costume; interesting, but obviously empty and impractical in this world of life.
Why so reluctant, Spiderman?
But he didn't see it quite like that. He had a more cynical view that questioned and doubted reality put before him. He would bottle up his doubts and questions, instead of trusting and reaching out to those who brought him into life to start. His hero was himself, "God isn't here". His arrogance would move him out. Unfortunately, the more he moved away, the more that he forsook, the more that he was trapped. Stuck in his own super hero's skin, he wouldn't be able to even save himself. . .
He stands out in the portrait, taller and leaner than all others. His desire is to follow his father's pathway, as he points his feet in the very same direction. He shares long arms that match those of his father, arms that are within the reach of help . But his father looks away for now, because it hurts to watch a person self destruct. Instead, he hopes for the day that the son will finally give up on his idle selfish ways and be the man that he always hoped he'd be. The mother is still perplexed, and wonders how did this Spiderman ever come to be. She didn't think she raised a superhero child. . .
But, if that's your call to be a savior and hero to the world, why give up? Why forsake all the gifts that you've been given? Why so reluctant to just say yes to faith? There is One who's greater than you that you have pushed aside. Heroes lead when they know their strengths and weaknesses, they're willing to open their hearts for critical examination, not just from mentors, but from the One who gave them life. Why hide behind the costume of goodness, when your actions have been selfishly unkind? Why so reluctant, Spiderman?
Why so reluctant, Spiderman?
"What has been done in concert by the will of man was now understood as a working out of the divine purpose. The futility of human opposition to God is never seen to better advantage than when it serves to implement His plan." (Everett F. Harrison, 1975, Acts, p. 89)
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