One aspect on God's nature is that He is entirely confident in himself and His own ability. He has no self doubt, and has complete self awareness of who He is. God believes in himself! In His mind there are no niggling anxieties eroding away His confidence. And this is how he wants us to be also. To have confidence which is unshakable, to be completely steadfast and unwavering in our opinion about who He is and about who we are in Christ. Just to reiterate, we are not talking of a self reliance in the absence of God, such pride is totally corrupt and lies at the heart of the human condition, but we are talking here about coming into the realisation of who we really are when we are in Christ, and the confidence that this brings. The two paradigms cannot co-exist. We cannot have supreme confidence in God, unless we also abandon all hopes of self attainment. In the words of our Lord "apart from me you can do nothing", tough words indeed, yet entirely true. Oh, we are not saying that we lack function or impotence to do anything, but rather anything of significance in the eyes of God. Is it not the way of the human soul, that in coming to the end of oneself, like the prodigal son, a realisation awakens within us. That the path we embarked upon which appeared so promising at the outset, transpired to offer nothing of any significance or meaning, but only broken dreams, damaged relationships and a wounded spirit. In such a state we are ready to accept the Father's embrace, because in this awakening we see not only the futility of our own efforts, but also the total provision of the Cross. Praise be to God the Father for the gift of His Son Jesus Christ, in whom we have redemption, and the promise of eternal life. Personally I love this story of the wayward son. It is poignant and reveals so well the depravity of the human heart, and the totality of the Father's love towards his children. Leaving the home of his upbringing, taking his inheritance with him, the prodigal traveller refuses to rest until he is in the far country, distanced from anyone who might know him, anyone who might either attempt to dissuade his frivolous intentions, or remind him of the life he left behind. Then what started out as apparent bliss and carnal indulgence failed miserably when the seemingly limitless fund depleted so quickly. So called friends rapidly disappeared, denying the appeals for help which must have come readily as the licentious lifestyle waned, replaced by the more essential attempts of survival and self preservation which all led to a far more humbling existence of co-habiting with pigs and eating swill. Isn't it amazing that this is when the Bible says he came to his senses. When we are devoid of all hope or change of circumstance there is something in the heart of mankind which cries out for God. Like an inbuilt safety mechanism which is triggered when all attempts of self assistance have failed, we finally open up to the possibility that we need help, that we have gone wrong, and that we are unable to sort out the mess any longer. Of course all of this is analogous of our salvation, for we can come in no other way than that of the prodigal son, who reasoned that even the servants had it better than he did, and the basis of his plea would not be re-instatement as a son, but service as a slave. Armed with this mindset the lost son begins the long journey home. What a barrage of condemning thoughts must have occuppied his mind. What would he say to his father, what could he say? This was not the return he had envisaged. Not the glorious return of pomp and success, but the bedraggled frame of one who felt the full burden of his sin like a millstone around his neck. The days rolled into one, until finally the territory became familiar and the horizon unmistakeable, home was over the next hill. With his approach rehearsed a thousand times over in his mind and still grappling for the right words to say, the prodigal son straightens his wearied back and starts the final mile home, not knowing whether his father was home or not, or what welcome he might receive. Let him go, the father had often been advised. Today was no exception, the house servants had offered their usual condolence and failed persuasion. But true to his own heart, every day he went to a place of particular significance. A haunt which offered advantageous views over the surrounding countryside, and where for many years, father and son had enjoyed treasured moments together by the brook which tickled its way through the family estate. The grief was unbearable at times, not knowing whether his son was dead or alive, or if he'd ever see him again. But love always hopes. Love never fails. It does not keep a record of wrongs, but always perseveres believing the best, and that rejoicing comes in the morning. In all the months which had passed, there was one account, one possible sighting of the young man which had come back to the father. A merchant who had come to sell his wares, had caught sight of a new arrival in a town many miles away who by discussion seemed to match the son's description..... to be continued