God's Feral Children
Posted: Saturday, July 25, 2009
by Ken McCreless
RMS1437
Greetings Fellow Travelers ...
One thing you need to know is that I grew up as a child of a preacher. I spent many hours in Sunday School learning about God, Jesus, and the prophets. It wasn't until recently that I could envision God as anything other than a gigantic man wearing a long flowing robe, with long white hair and a longer white beard, sitting on a throne.
Ordinary folks like myself were drawn as walking around wringing their hands, wearing filthy rags and talking to themselves. Then, there would be an encounter with Jesus, and one person would be transformed into a shiny being petting a lamb while smiling at a lion.
I suppose that's a fair representation of a conversion. I do have fond memories of the classes I attended on Sunday mornings that would include such artwork and the happy feelings that came from them.
But recently I had a vision of another version of conversion, one that fills the gaps between a wretched, damned soul and a glowing child of God.
" In my house are many mansions," Jesus tells us. But, there also is a yard- a very large and occasionally wooded yard. In this yard live God's feral children.
These souls have already turned to the Lord, have accepted His forgiveness, and have had their names written in the Book of Life. But, they are wild.
They are like strays brought home from the pound, happy to be free but unable to participate in the goings on in the house. Moving about on their hands and knees these children simply do not understand that their rightful place is inside. They will in time, but, for now, they are outside.
They have indeed turned their lives over to God and will not spend eternity separated from Him, but have yet to realize their heritage has changed. Their world, in their minds, remains that of a scavenger, scratching around for scraps of garbage to keep themselves alive.
But, much like a physician treating someone with a traumatic invasion of the chest, God cannot rush the therapy necessary to save our lives and souls. We would be destroyed.
Gods feral children will fight His every effort to heal them, so He, as always, has a plan.
God watches them and sets up various situations to acclimate them to His grace in its entirety. Flowers bloom and turn themselves to give the feral children an optimal sense of the sweetness of the Lord. Fruit appears in the trees, low enough to be detected by them but high enough to cause them to reach higher and higher in order to get it.
Distant growls of the wolves of the world can still be heard, after all, they are still outside. This sparks fear in the children, but this fear diminishes over time as they realize that they are safe, that the evils of the world can only hurt them if allowed to do so. This is what takes the most time.
But it does happen. The confidence that is their birthright sets up in their hearts and their thinking changes from a basic, food-gathering mode to that of Children of the King.
Well, there it is. Not exactly the story told by those beautiful drawings that adorn the walls of Sunday School rooms across the world, but, in my mind, much more accurate. From a lost and damned soul to a wild and unkempt animal to an honored resident, our journey, though not pristine as portrayed previously, is nonetheless as exciting and inalterable.
One thing you need to know is that I grew up as a child of a preacher. I spent many hours in Sunday School learning about God, Jesus, and the prophets. It wasn't until recently that I could envision God as anything other than a gigantic man wearing a long flowing robe, with long white hair and a longer white beard, sitting on a throne.
I suppose that's a fair representation of a conversion. I do have fond memories of the classes I attended on Sunday mornings that would include such artwork and the happy feelings that came from them.
But recently I had a vision of another version of conversion, one that fills the gaps between a wretched, damned soul and a glowing child of God.
" In my house are many mansions," Jesus tells us. But, there also is a yard- a very large and occasionally wooded yard. In this yard live God's feral children.
These souls have already turned to the Lord, have accepted His forgiveness, and have had their names written in the Book of Life. But, they are wild.
They are like strays brought home from the pound, happy to be free but unable to participate in the goings on in the house. Moving about on their hands and knees these children simply do not understand that their rightful place is inside. They will in time, but, for now, they are outside.
They have indeed turned their lives over to God and will not spend eternity separated from Him, but have yet to realize their heritage has changed. Their world, in their minds, remains that of a scavenger, scratching around for scraps of garbage to keep themselves alive.
But, much like a physician treating someone with a traumatic invasion of the chest, God cannot rush the therapy necessary to save our lives and souls. We would be destroyed.
Gods feral children will fight His every effort to heal them, so He, as always, has a plan.
God watches them and sets up various situations to acclimate them to His grace in its entirety. Flowers bloom and turn themselves to give the feral children an optimal sense of the sweetness of the Lord. Fruit appears in the trees, low enough to be detected by them but high enough to cause them to reach higher and higher in order to get it.
Distant growls of the wolves of the world can still be heard, after all, they are still outside. This sparks fear in the children, but this fear diminishes over time as they realize that they are safe, that the evils of the world can only hurt them if allowed to do so. This is what takes the most time.
But it does happen. The confidence that is their birthright sets up in their hearts and their thinking changes from a basic, food-gathering mode to that of Children of the King.
Well, there it is. Not exactly the story told by those beautiful drawings that adorn the walls of Sunday School rooms across the world, but, in my mind, much more accurate. From a lost and damned soul to a wild and unkempt animal to an honored resident, our journey, though not pristine as portrayed previously, is nonetheless as exciting and inalterable.
Ken McCreless is just a guy who loves to write, and was born to do so. He is a freelance writer with several projects ongoing, including books and magazines. A huge fan of both irony and history, Ken has dedicated his life and his writing to serve the Lord Jesus Christ.
This Article has been viewed 660 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
More commentsThis is a very beautiful story, Ken. Thanks for sharing this with us.Thank you, Michael, I appreciate it.
Ken McCluedin,You are so right. People certainly come to this earth at many levels. Look at our geniuses who are writing symphonies or scientific dissertations as children. Some spirits come advanced while others must struggle with their immature spirit by comparison.I appreciate your gift. Keep writing brother!Thanks, Jeff.
"To whom much is given, much is expected," I believe, is a verse from the Bible. I spent a lot of years thinking I had little to give because of it.But, we all have a lot to give, don't we?
Interesting reading. Couldn't quite get where you were going or what the point was, but I like your writing style and you definitely contribute to the diverse quality of searchwarp. Thanks for sharing.Thank you, Darren. I'm not sure there was a point.
Ken-very thought provoking article! I agree churches sometimes give us the wrong impression of a life with God. I have never thought about the feral children! I am going to have to give this some research! Thanks Ken!Thank you, Laura. The idea came to me while driving. It seemed to me that our spiritual selves follow a similar path to maturity as our physical selves.
Well Ken, I believe some of us are in the yard all of our lives until we die then we enter the kingdom. We are slaves to our Lord and serve him here on earth. Just a personal view, I enjoyed reading your article.Thank you, David.I feel like I am in the yard, still on all fours.
Well done, Ken. I am glad that God is God and not me. I'd so totally be messing things up. I am thankful for God's patience, faithfulness even though I am not faithful and every other attribute God lavishes upon me. Very well done.Thank you, Lorrie.Your comment is a lesson on its own!
Very well put, Ken. Apt is a better word. One day we will all be 'judged by our works and found wanting', but we will have the grace of a merciful God who will know us for what we are--human.Great article. I loved it.SandraNicely stated, Sandra.Thank you for reading and commenting, it's very much appreciated.
I think that's the point - starting out "worldly" then striving to be more like Him.....Exactly. But our "strivings" are nothing without His grace.
Ken, great word picture. Kind of makes me sad, though, thinking about how the Church could do a better job of teaching them that there's more to Heaven than just the front yard!You are so right, Rob. So many times churches get caught up in building aesthetics rather than the plight of the wandering and lost soul.Thank you for reading and commenting.
Ken,Well done but to be honest, I didn't get it until I got into the comments. I pictured feral children as those with fangs and horns on all fours outside the Kingdom and my first thought was that all children go to Heaven. Why would they be on the outside? Then I was thinking that the designated area was like Purgatory. Your descriptions were quite surreal.NancyHi Nancy.What I was going for was a description of our spiritual transformation, before we die and go to Heaven.Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment, and it is SO good to see you back!
More comments
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.