The Foundling

I love the simple times depicted in the Waltons series.  Somehow, I didn’t have the same appreciation for the show back in the 70’s when it originally aired, as I do today.  Watching the classic reruns transports me back to a time when rush and craziness were not so much a part of my life.

The prologue in the beginning of each episode tells of the tranquil life the family led on the mountainside.  My favorite scenes are when the family is sitting around the kitchen table in the morning or gathered around the radio in the evening.  It makes me yearn for quieter times.

Last evening we watched “The Foundling”. . . a story about an unwanted deaf girl left on the doorstep of the Walton home.  If you’ve ever watched the show, you know what happens next.  The endearing family takes the discarded girl in making her part of their family.  They bathe her, dress her in fresh clothes, and sit her at their table.

The indescribable love that is shown to the throw-away child is a picture of God’s love to me . . . to us.  He embraces us in our forsaken state and cleanses us in redeeming blood, and clothes us in new garments.

A holy array.

Then, He sits us at His table, a symbol of our inheritance as His adopted child.

I am a foundling.

Praise You, Father for Your loving care and rescue, never allowing me to remain in my place of abandonment.