Today, I dedicate this post to Our Father, the earthly being and the perfect embodiment.

Who embraces his child and kisses him after he has splurged half the family's fortune on splendor and delight, only to return after he pockets are empty? Who kills the fatten calf when sin comes knocking at his door? Who throws a celebration because repentance returns home with a guilt-stricken conscience?

And who feels the grief when he sees us sin? Who feels the excruciating pain to know that your child has betrayed you yet again? Who fights to resurrect us with the knowledge that we brought the downfall upon ourself and will do so again?

He who lifts us up and feels up go down. Abba Father, God and perfect Father. His love is not great because it is unconditional, it is great because it is true. Unconditional is something we can never experience in our world. Even leaders footing the country's stronghold are there because they bask in the glory and are empowered to direct their stakeholders towards a new vision. No one can sincerely proclaim they do something all the time because they truly want to help. No one... no one but Him.

Paperwork, legal terms and conditions apply, those tiny characters that prance about beneath a contract but seek no attention. And yet God gave everything. He has a choice, and this is it. He created each of us in his image, gave us everything in his only wish that we will love him so but time and time again we kill ourselves in front of him. To know our stories written out and to bear with the countless times we sin and still give His all-that is unconditional, and perhaps more.

Sometimes, it transcends to an unconditional-conditional love statement. To God, it entails nothing. And yet we abuse this privilege to seek forgiveness as and when we like. A relief to our evils, an excuse to break our love with God.

But still with such powerful knowledge we succumb to temptations so graciously.

Prodigal sons and a wonderful Father, but somethings are earthbound.

And I know that my father works in the same way God the Father does. The vivid incident of my physical fight with my Dad in Korea 2 years back evokes so much emotion and memories again. And it reminds me of the skit by lifehouse, and the exact same struggle I had: a visual struggle with my father and my Father.

Perhaps the experience of fighting with God comes as an extreme hypothetical situation that will never be but for me, it is a living truth that haunts me and reminds me of the love I owe him but has yet to give. I know now why he is running 4 days a week: a symbol of love. He only developed running as a passion because he used it to stop smoking and only because we pleaded for him. And I was drunk and blind, obviating the truth behind this.

I could go on and on...

And so will my sins...

And so will his love...

Kissing and embracing, each time I run home (: