My wanderings in the blogosphere often cause me to chuckle or sigh. Writers post pictures of themselves, hoping to establish the fact that their lives are jam-packed with excitement, variety and purpose.

Here I am slalom water skiing. Here I am zip-lining. Here I am at my easel with latest masterpiece. Here I am surrounded by laughing kids at the barbecue. Here I am sipping a Corona on a pristine white tropical beach…

The fact that they seem to have to advertise a fulfilling life, betrays the fact that they DON’T have it. The things, the tinsel treats, the frenetic pass-times speak of ongoing dissatisfaction in an open-ended search. For a time a loving God will allow them to keep opening such doors of restlessness. But then in His mercy a time of straightening comes, and perhaps they may come to themselves (Luke 15: 17).

Off come the designer shades; off comes the bling; off comes the shirt; off comes the façade; off comes the bragging talk; off comes the foolish jest. I have come to myself. GULP. And it isn’t very pretty. Oh God please help me. I must have tried most of the others. Please, don’t YOU let me down!

And a merciful Heavenly Father has just engaged with another readied child of need. He picks him/her up in those loving, capable arms. He strokes the tears from the cheeks. He squeezes the arm of tomorrow’s renewed purpose. The good life is being found.