As I came home one afternoon, there in his usual spot in the picture window standing on a footstool was my dog, Mickey. Mickey was about a year old and he still hadn’t lost his puppy playfulness. When he saw me, he got so excited he spun around in the air a few times.
When I opened the back door, Mickey could hardly wait to get out and greet me. Like a jackrabbit with springs in his legs, he jumped three feet into the air and three feet out the door into the backyard. Then I caught the happy, squirming fellow and gave him a big hug.
I knew he needed some exercise after being cooped up all morning by himself, so I decided to take him out for a walk. I also had to get some studying done, so I brought along a textbook.
We walked down the sidewalk to the end of our block, across a street, over a parkway, across train tracks, through some bushes, and into a large field next to a school. Mickey was walking by my side without his leash.
If I sat down on the grass, I knew Mickey would never let me study because he never had any use for books. So I climbed up to the top of a set of monkey bars where I perched myself, as comfortably as possible, to read my book in peace.
As soon as Mickey saw I meant to sit still, he gleefully kicked his legs like a frisky colt and started running. Around the outskirts of the whole field he ran at full speed. Then he sat down in front of the monkey bars and looked up at me with his bright eyes. He seemed to be expecting something. I thought he wanted me to praise him, so I said, “Mickey, you run beautifully; you run just beautifully.” Then he caught sight of a train that was speeding down the tracks a block away. He looked back at me again. Then he started to run.
I thought he was running around the field again. I never expected what he did next. Instead of rounding the corner and coming back to me, he kept running, straight for the train.
I jumped off the monkey bars and shouted as loudly as I could, “Mickey, stop! Mickey, stop!” He must have heard me, but he chose to keep going.
I ran as fast as I could to the tracks. People in their cars waiting at the crossing saw what was happening and waved frantically, pointing down the tracks. I looked to where they were pointing, and there was Mickey ... way down the tracks running alongside the train, dashing dangerously close to the train and snapping furiously at the wheels!
I couldn’t believe it! My 25-pound dog was challenging a huge and speedy coal train. My heart sank as I saw him snap at the wheels, and I couldn’t bear to think what would happen if he got too close. Frantically I shouted, “Mickey, no! Mickey, come back!” But the noise of the train was too loud for Mickey to hear me.
I ran down the tracks, stumbling over the railroad ties. Running as fast as I could, I was still rapidly losing in the race to keep up with the train and Mickey. They got so far in front of me that finally I lost sight of Mickey. Then I lost sight of the train.
All I could do was to continue walking down the tracks, hoping Mickey would stop his mad chase and come back looking for me. Every few minutes I would stop and call, “Mickey!” in case he had wandered into the surrounding neighborhoods. Whenever I would see an object in the distance beside the tracks, I would think, “Could that be Mickey hit by the train and lying there?” As I got closer I discovered that they were only pieces of trash.
As I walked down the tracks, the story of the prodigal son and his father came to my mind. I felt in my heart a little of what the father must have felt like when the son he loved took his things and left his father’s house to go into a far country. In my mind’s eye I saw the father standing in his doorway watching his boy leaving home, walking down the road which led away from his father’s house. How the words must have welled up in the father’s heart, “My son, I love you! Come back to me. Come back,” but he did not call them out to his son because he knew his son had made up his mind to leave him.
After walking half an hour down the tracks without seeing any sign of Mickey, I turned around and headed home. Mickey whom I loved was lost, and I didn’t know if I would ever see him again.
God dearly loves you, too. He loves you infinitely more than I loved Mickey. When I called Mickey at first, he chose not to listen and kept chasing the train. God calls us, too, through what we read in the Bible and gospel papers, what we hear in Sunday school, and in many other ways. God calls us to believe on His Son and receive everlasting life and the forgiveness of sins. It is His love for you that brought the Lord Jesus down to die for sins.
Sadly, I walked home. I looked into the picture window, but there was no Mickey. I opened the back door, but no happy puppy came prancing to welcome me. I sat down in the kitchen
and sighed.
Then, who do you think poked his head around the corner? Yes, Mickey! A lady in her car had found him and brought him home. I looked down at him and I got angry with him for disobeying me, and I felt like punishing him. But I was also terribly glad he was safely home, and I wanted to hug the little dog. I couldn’t make up my mind whether to punish him or hug him, so I did both.
My story had a happy ending, and the story of the prodigal son had a happy ending, too. The son went far away and spent all his money having a good time until his money was gone. Then no one would give to him, and he finally got a job feeding pigs. He was so hungry he wanted to eat the food the pigs were eating.
Then he thought about his father’s house and how the servants there had plenty of food. He decided to return home and ask his father if he could be one of his servants.
When his father saw him a long way off, he wasn’t angry with him. He ran to meet him, and he hugged and kissed him. Then he ordered the best robe and shoes and a ring to be brought for his son. He had a feast prepared, and they all began to celebrate.
This story is a picture of how God feels when a sinner returns to Him. You don’t need to be afraid God will punish you for your sins, if you accept the Lord Jesus as your Savior. The Bible tells us that on the cross Jesus took the punishment for all the sins of every person who would believe on Him. God is just, and He does not punish twice for the same sin.
Messages of God’s Love 1/28/2024