Last week I read "The Caprock Rancher", a short story by famed western writer/historian Louis L'Amour.  (I highly recommend that you stop right now, and read it, as the story's conclusion will be discussed here.  It'll take you a few minutes.)  It was a man's story.  It was a man's man's story.  It was about the folly of youth, repentance, and redemption.  It was about thinking that you know better than your Daddy, then figuring out that he was right.  It was about realizing that not only was your Daddy right, but that he's also a real-life, stone-cold, rock-ribbed superhero.  It was about substance triumphing over show.  It was about truth, and how a wise man is able to see it.  It was about following principles instead of people.  And gentlemen, it was about a good man whoopin' some tail.

It's easy to blow past, but I want to draw your attention to two words in the Bible that should arrest our attention and bring us to the feet of God to listen, and to listen with full intent to lay everything open before Him, everything.  In Proverbs 1:10, God warns us against self-destruction, against actions that will leave our lives utterly and completely devastated, and in the most hopeless misery, and He begins by saying "My son..."  As a parent, I know that no suffering of my own could hurt me as much as the suffering of one of my children could.  In those two precious words, God, the source of all knowledge and truth, takes us by the shoulders, looks us in the eyes, knowing everything, and with unbounded love and wisdom, says "My son..."  In doing so, He calls to something deeper than the passion that drives so many of our actions in our youths.  He calls from the position of Lord, El Shaddai, Abba, Father.  We know His love, His discipline, His comfort, His forgiveness, His righteousness.

Like the rebellious son in the story, we will be forced to acknowledge our sin.  Life will see to that.  But, before it's too late, our Father calls.  To save us from needless suffering, He stops us in our tracks as we head out the door, and calls:  "My son..."