Dedicated to my Dad
By Roy Burner
Return of Prodigal Son was written shortly after my foster Dad's death. I have had it tucked away for many years but want to share it with you now as to why the words: "And put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet" become so dear to me!
Picture of My Sister and I who remained together, after our Mom's death, going to various places until our final residence with the Burner household.
Let's go back to the beginning. My foster Dad and Mom accepted guardianship of my sister and I when we were 8 and 9 years old. They raised us as if we were their own and we lacked for nothing. We attended God's house of worship regularly (with the exception of my foster Dad - who I will hereafter refer to as Dad) and all seemed to be going well with our family. Dad wanted to adopt us but my birth dad would not allow it; so our last name was legally changed to Burner without an adoption.
As I grew older my Dad and I did not agree on everything and I'm sure he oftentimes became very frustrated with me. After finishing High School; I entered Business College but after eight months was removed due to riotous living as that of the Prodigal Son.
Picture of Dad and Mom in the backyard of our new home; next to the old one we first lived in. Dad had the new home built by my Uncle who was a contractor.
Dad and I had a fight; after my returning home from Business College, and I departed to be on my own living in a town about 30 miles away telling no one where I was. Dad later found me and encouraged me to return home and join the service; if not for him then for my mother. My riotous living only increased after entering the service. I even became involved in an episode which left me in a near-death situation. It was then that I turned to the God of my youth, saying that if He would spare me I would: (1) Discontinue Drinking; (2) Discontinue using Profanity; and (3) Become more Religious.
I was not to fully keep those promises until nearly ten years later! Meanwhile, I only came home once every four or five years and Dad and I seemed aloft from each other during those visits. Largely, because of all that had happened and the many wrongs I had done; I more or less self-imposed myself as the Black Sheep of the family.
In 1978 I learned just how real God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, is and begin to dedicate my life to serving the Lord. It was then that I finally kept all the promises I had made some ten years earlier; although I had attempted to do so before. Then in the last years of Dad's life I began to detect a change on his part.
Picture taken of Dad and Mom on the year of His death.
About a year before Dad died he came to our home for a visit. It was then I learned that he was truly looking to the Lord which gave me a chance to testify of my own faith and determination to live for God. After that visit Dad's letters gave me cause to rejoice for he often mentioned the Lord in them.
Then came Dad's final letter, saying he could not understand all that he read in God's Word but that it was coming more clear to him and he was praying about it. He asked my opinion of whether I felt we were in the end times. I received this letter the day before Dad died.
The next day, after receiving the letter, I was reading in the Book of John during lunch hour at work. I had just finished reading concerning Lazarus death, and Jesus' weeping, when I received the phone call telling me of Dad's death. After the call I begin to weep; for I realized I would not be able to continue to renew our Father-to-Son relationship. Dad's last letter comforted me for I knew he was surely with the Lord.
I found out later that after reading his Bible Dad had gone down to the basement for his daily exercise. It was during this time that he had heart failure. Mother said that when she found Dad he had a smile on his face and she thought he was only pretending to be asleep. So she playfully poked him but found to her distress that he was not breathing.
Prior to Dad's funeral I arose early and felt a desire to read in Dad's Bible where he himself had been reading on the day of his death. It was then I noticed a poem tucked inside his Bible:
I shall fall asleep in the twilight, as I never have before, to dream of the beautiful city, till I waken to sleep no more. There will fall, on my restless spirit a hush, Oh, so wondrously sweet, and I shall cross over the river to rest at the Master's feet.
I want to tell you of a meeting I had with the minister who officiated at Dad's funeral. I had it in mind to let him see the poem but first asked him if he would give me an outline of what he intended to use at the service. He said he intended to start off with John's description of Lazarus death; my heart leaped for joy.
The Lord surely had prepared me for Dad's death; that last comforting letter, and now the same scripture being used which I myself had been reading when notified of his death. He then went on to say he was going to mention the beautiful city John had described in Revelations; a perfect lead-in to the poem I found in Dad's bible!
After Dad's funeral I told Mom I felt like the Prodigal Son who had returned home for I could not have been more fully accepted than I was. Mom asked me to accept a ring that Dad had worn during his latter years. Then my sister noticed my shoes were about worn out. she asked me if she could replace them as an early birthday present. I accepted both gifts.
One morning shortly thereafter I arose early in the morning to read my Bible. I like to open my mind sometimes to whatever Book and Chapter comes to mind - in this case it was Luke 15. When I turned to that chapter I once again rejoiced for it was concerning the Return of Prodigal Son. As I continued reading the chapter these words seem to leap out at me...AND HE PUT A RING ON HIS HAND AND SHOES ON HIS FEET which had happened to me!
I thank the Lord that Dad is now across that river (the River of Life) which is eternal life. We also shall cross that river and be at the Master's feet; if we have a love for the Lord that excels all else, if we put Jesus first and foremost in our lives!
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