Susan LaffertyThe wilderness soundtrack sounds like desert thirst. Barren field. Little fruit.
We sit in a conference with workers from some of those fields. Where the gospel has been sung. Refrain after refrain.
To no response.
Their voices strain at the chords. Lament in the place of veiled hearts. Where darkness is palpable.
I remember. The struggle to keep singing in the land where captives remained captive. Hearts closed to the One and Only.
“How did he turn out that way?” my teenaged son asks. We’re standing at the kitchen table. On summer vacation in Arizona.
He’s distressed. Witnessing up close the rage and deceit of someone he’s trusted and admired. The downhill slide is shocking.
“It probably started with one lie,” I say. “Then another. And another. Until finally he was living a lie.”
What I do not know at the time of that conversation will come to light a month later. The fact that our son has been lying to us. For a while.
And has moved to “a far country” of deceit fueled by anxiety. Even as he lives within the four walls of our home.
Prodigal.
The father of lies is after his very soul.
At the beginning of each year, my mother asks, “Do you have a Scripture verse for this year?” January 2013 was no different.
So I asked the Father to reveal a specific Scripture for that year. An overarching theme to pray and study. And a verse to send Mom.