He LOVES the UNLOVED-2

Script-2

My Father's Love

Countless Sundays passed as I attended church to be with Stephanie. Her parents nodded approvingly as we all sang from the hymn books and whispered together in prayer. I became the   world's greatest pretender. Who would ever guess that just the night before I had fallen   asleep in a cloud of marijuana smoke with an empty bottle in my hand? It was a juggling act that was becoming second nature of me.

One afternoon, Stephanie announced that she was going on a retreat with girls from church and would be out of town for three days. I didn't realize until that weekend just how vital Stephanie was to me. She was the most important thing in my world, and I was facing a whole weekend without her. 

"There's a party at Steve's place," my friend Scott said one Friday night. "It'd be cool if you could be there."

His invitation sounded great until I remember Stephanie's parents. There was an important revival at the church that night, and they were expecting me to be there.

"Can't," I answered remorsefully. "I've got other plans."

The church was filling quickly as I searched for Stephanie's parents. A slight pounding in my skull was the only trace of how wasted I'd gotten the night before. I was missing Stephanie so much. I felt empty without her. All the more reason to straight the knotted silk tie at my throat and sit with her parents, except I arrived late and their pew was filled. They smiled and waved as I sat in the third row.

The pastor explained that they had a special guest that evening. A- years-old boy would deliver a personal testimony of what God had done in his life. I watched as the kid shook hands with the pastor and then took command of the microphone. He wore jeans, a T-Shirt, and sneakers. His blond hair hung long and shaggy to his shoulders.

"My father loves me," he opened by stating. "It took me 17 years to be able to say those words. My father loves me, and he will love me no matter what mistakes I make or what weakness I have. He will love me through every storm in my life and hold me in his embrace until the clouds clear and the sun streams through again."

The wounds I carried from my own uncaring father began to sting as if scoured with salt. This kid had a great dad who obviously loved him very much. I stared at him with envy.

"I'm not speaking of my mortal father," the young man said, scanning the congregation with pale blue eyes. "My mortal father was incapable of love. He abused me throughout my childhood and beat my
mom until she could barely stand. What meant the most to him was his Vodka, which eventually took his life."

My mouth grew dry. The people seated around me began to melt away, and all I could see was this boy, virtually the same age I was, drawing me into a world I knew too well___ a word with a big puzzle piece missing.

"When I say my father loves me, I'm speaking of my real father... your real father... the father that will embrace you for all of eternity." He paused, pinning his gaze on me. "I'm talking about my spiritual father."

I listened to every word he said. He spoke of God as our true father, the one who will never abandon us, turn away from us, or disappoint us. He said that knowing God and letting him into your life will bring you the most awesome parent/child relationship you could ever experience.

By the time he closed with a heartfelt prayer, I was sobbing as I bowed my head. For once, my prayer came from my heart.

I could hardly wait to talk to Stephanie when she got back from the retreat. I would no longer have to pretend. Now my love for God was as real as hers.

"I've got news for you," she said.

I grinned. "I've got news, too. Me first, Okay? If I don't tell you this minute, I'm going to explode!"

I explained about the revival and how God spoke to me that night and how he told me that he is my loving father and I don't need to hurt anymore. I told her that my life had been forever changed, and it was all because of the Lord.

Stephanie hugged me before her expression clouded. "We need to break up," she said softly. "I do love you. It's nothing you did__ I just feel the need to concentrate on my relationship with God right now. I hope you understand."

To be Continued...