A Season of Separation

Restoration waits for those on the path of repentance.

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As a father of many foster, three birth, and one adopted, I had my fair share of bellowing out the command, “go to your room,” due to their disobedience or misbehavior. The purpose of that consequence was to use the forced family separation as a time of reflection in hopes that repentance would follow. At the right time, I would make my way to their room, talk about what was done, reveal their error, chat with them about any further consequences, layout how they should have acted, and then explained what needed to be done on their part for reconciliation and restoration. From the moment I sent them to their room to the time when they were released, I was in complete control as the figure of authority; the one motivated by love that intentionally used the separation as a tool for their betterment. Would it have been appropriate for one of their siblings to open their door and set them free? Or, sneak into their room with a game and play? How about the entire family bringing up dessert and all having a grand time in their room while they were supposed to be separated? Of course not! Why? Because it was not their place to interfere; they lacked the authority to usurp dad’s path of reconciliation. But, consider what would have occurred if the mom and all the other children went to their room and played all day, even eating dinner with them? That child would not have experienced the lesson in separation and would have harbored harsh feelings toward the father as he was the only one perceived to be unfair.

There are times when our Heavenly Father operates in like manner, and through church discipline, sends a child to their “room” for introspection; as the first step on the path to repentance and reconciliation. Over the years, I have experienced a few occasions where a church member’s sins were confronted only to have them dig in deeper, refuse to repent, and ultimately walk away from the fellowship. Clearly, they were in sin; angry, immature, slanderous, spiteful, vindictive, and carnal, yet something inevitably occurs most of the time in the season of separation; their siblings interfere with God’s tool of restoration. From the comfort of their homes, and amid their sin, their brothers and sisters in Christ start to call, visit, send cards, all conveying the same message, “We love you, we miss you, please come back, the church needs you.” They continue to receive copies of the bulletins, the monthly financial statements, and a constant flow of gossip, all from their family members; words of affirmation, comfort, and concern from every member of their family except for their Father. The season of silence that God would have used to evoke feelings of isolation and loneliness, restoring the sinner in their relationship with God through repentance, has been hindered, stopped even, by the well-intentioned. Folks have essentially gone into the room of their disobedient sibling, set up a nice meal, and had a party while the Father watched with a grieved heart from the other room.

Sin separates, it always has, ever since Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden. Right after they ate the forbidden fruit, they hid from God behind some bushes. When God came to the garden that day, he asked, “Where are you?”, not because He was terrible at playing Hide and Seek, nor did God lose His power of omniscience, instead because He wanted Adam and Even to acknowledge their season of separation, confess their sins and be restored (Gen. 3). Nothing stood in the path of God’s plan of reconciliation, and Adam and Eve were better for it. Even today, we are commanded to protect God’s season of separation when our Father is disciplining His children (Isa. 59:2, Mt. 18:15-17, I Cor. 5:1-13). 

In high school, I spent a weekend with a friend at his house. During that stay, my friend got into trouble with his dad, and while my friend was being yelled at, I injected something like, “It wasn’t all his fault…” I never finished that sentence for his dad looked at me sternly and said something like, “Don’t get in my way, this is MY son.” This was reinforced in boot camp years later as we all witnessed the mistake of getting between a drill instructor and the recruit he was correcting! How much more should we refrain from getting in God’s way? We lack the authority to usurp His plan of reconciliation; it is simply not our place. And, if we genuinely want the best for our brothers and sisters in Christ, as much as it pains us to hear the laments from their isolation, we must acknowledge our Father knows better and stay out of His way. 

Scripture: “This testimony is true. Therefore rebuke them sharply, that they may be sound in the faith” -Titus 1:13, ESV

Question: Do you know anyone that God has placed in a season of separation? Would you commit to praying for this person that God’s children would protect this time, that they would soon repent and be restored into the fellowship?

Prayer: Father, it is difficult to see someone we care about and love being disciplined. Please help me have the strength to trust you through the process. May I never interfere or stand in the way of your path of restoration. May the separated one miss the fellowship of their church family, the sweetness of your presence, the intimacy in prayer, and the power of your love enough to repent of their sins and be restored into your family. Thank you for caring enough to invest in our lives; you are a good Father. In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen.

The Mulligan

In a merciless culture, God offers second chances.

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Confidently I stood, nine iron in hand, watching proudly as my golf ball landed on the green about 120 yards away and only inches from the hole. I spun around, in cocky teenage bravado, to face my only opponent, Ruth McCracken, and snickered, “beat that!”. My grandmother was a woman of intellect, strength, and a penchant for competitive golf with the talent to back it up. Even though I grew to be a pretty decent player, I never bested her on a course, which is why I was so thrilled that for once in my young life, I stood positioned to at least win a hole. Pulling her seven-iron out of her personalized bag attached to the back of the cart, she walked over to the tee, set her ball up, took a couple of practice strokes, addressed the ball, and whack. I watched with audible laughter as her ball hooked to the left and into the woods. I victoriously sunk my golf club into the bag and jumped into the passenger seat of the golf cart, waiting with baited anticipation for my grandmother to finish her walk of shame and meet me. As I privately gloated, about 25 feet from the tee, I heard another “whack,” and she proclaim, “well, look at that Tom, right next to you!”. Looking at the green, I saw that my ball now had a companion. “You can’t do that,” I said, “you’re not a cheater!” to which she replied, “Oh Tom, you have so much to learn about golf, that,” she said grimacing, “that, is called a mulligan.” My grandmother then hopped into the cart, driving in silence to the green, she walked over to her ball, putt in, and her record remained unscathed.

A mulligan in golf means a second chance. Usually, allowing a mulligan is discussed before the players tee off; nevertheless, my grandmother benefited from the game of golf’s only grace. I learned that day when a golfer has a horrible shot, leaving them in an unrecoverable position, they can call for a mulligan and reshoot-it is simply the adult version of the children’s “do-over.” In life, we don’t generally find such a concept. When we mess up, there never seems to be a lacking of people lined up to offer, “told you so,” or, “you made your bed, now lie in it.” Even in the house of grace, church folks have become quite proficient in judging, failing to remember that we all are in the same boat of sin, standing in need of a healing Savior

When I was 21 years old, I sat on the back pew in a church in Massachusetts overwhelmed with the regret, guilt, and shame brought on by a life of mistakes and bad choices, thinking back to when life seemed simpler, wishing I could just call for a “do-over”-a mulligan. I don’t remember what the preacher’s sermon was for that day. I can’t recall the hymns sung or even the name of that church. What I do remember was hearing of a God that gave out second chances freely; a God that took me as I was and didn’t want to leave me where He found me. A God that knew and approved the use of a mulligan. So, that day, I went to the altar and asked that God for another chance; I repented of my sin, and Jesus Christ became the Lord of my life. My salvation story in golf terms? I had one too many shots into the woods, but Jesus allowed me a mulligan, another chance to surrender to Him. And while I have made some pretty sorry shots since, I have found Him to be present and patient and still willing to say, “Tom, take another mulligan.”

Friend, in this world, you will not find grace or mercy (John 15:18-25, Matthew 10:22, Romans 1:29-30), but please do not be discouraged, for the Father of Mulligans has overcome the world (John 16:33)! In a culture void of mercy, Jesus rises above it all, reaching out with nail-scarred hands, asking you today, “do you want a mulligan?” the question remains, are you ready for a do-over?

Scripture: “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:21-23, ESV)

Question: Are you tired of doing things your way and ready to take full advantage of the mercy and grace offered by God through Jesus Christ? Are you willing to take that eternal mulligan that will change your direction and destination?

Prayer: Father, I have been overwhelmed with the guilt and regret that comes from all of the bad decisions I have made over the years. I am crying out to you now, asking for another chance; fresh wind, extreme grace, overwhelming mercy, and undying love. I need you. Please give me the strength to be a good steward of a new chance, a new day, to live for you. Thank you for being patient with me and allowing me another opportunity to enjoy your faithfulness on the course of my life. In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray, amen.