FARPoG

Devotional

FARPoG

Sometimes an idea waits a very long time before we understand what it was good for. A word dreamed up when we were young may seem like nothing more than a curiosity. A phrase catches our attention, our imagination plays with it, and then life moves on. But occasionally, years later, we look at that old idea again and see something we could not have seen before.

The song, FARPoG, begins with exactly that kind of memory: “FARPoG... what a funny name / Its letters stand for words once seen / On envelopes, I used to read. / Forwarding And Return Postage Guaranteed.” There is something wonderfully ordinary about its beginning: an envelope, a postal instruction, and a peculiar acronym invented by a young woman who thought it might someday become a brand name for clothes, shoes, or perhaps a children's game. Nothing particularly spiritual about that. At least, not yet.

Then the words are seen again through older eyes: Forwarding. Return. Postage guaranteed. Suddenly, what once belonged to the mail begins pointing toward something much greater.

Forwarding

When mail is forwarded, it is being directed toward another destination. The Christian life also has a destination. Jesus told His disciples that He was going to prepare a place for them, then made the way unmistakably clear: “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14:6). Paul reminds believers that “our conversation is in heaven” (Philippians 3:20).

But Christianity is not simply about waiting to arrive somewhere after death. The journey has already begun. God calls us to follow Christ now—to walk in His ways, grow in His truth, love as He commands, and allow our lives to be transformed as we travel (Romans 12:1–2; Ephesians 4:20–24). So perhaps “forwarding” provides a useful picture. We are going somewhere, and Scripture provides the direction: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Psalm 119:105). Not our feelings. Not the culture. Not whatever road happens to appear easiest. God's Word directs our steps.

Return

The word return carries another meaning throughout Scripture. Again and again, God calls people to turn toward Him. Isaiah says, “Seek ye the LORD while he may be found” and calls the wicked to “return unto the LORD” (Isaiah 55:6–7). Acts likewise calls people to “Repent ye therefore, and be converted” (Acts 3:19). Sin carries us away from the One who created us, but God's invitation is not merely to recognize that we are lost. It is to turn—to repent and come to Him.

Jesus illustrated that truth beautifully in the account of the prodigal son. The son traveled far from his father and eventually recognized where his choices had taken him. Then came the decision: “I will arise and go to my father” (Luke 15:18). He arose and returned home, and the father received him (Luke 15:11–24). That story is not about postage, of course. But it is very much about returning.

Postage Guaranteed

And then we reach the phrase that gives the song, FARPoG, its deepest meaning: “Return postage guaranteed... The price was paid by His Son.” Here the illustration must be handled carefully, because salvation is far greater than anything that can be represented by a stamp on an envelope. But the truth toward which the image points is central to the Gospel.

There was a price we could not pay. Scripture says, “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), and “the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 6:23). Our redemption was not purchased with ordinary things of value, but “with the precious blood of Christ” (1 Peter 1:18–19). Christ “bare our sins in his own body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). The price was His. The grace is God's.

Salvation is not something we purchase for ourselves through good behavior, religious accomplishment, generosity, suffering, or years of trying to become worthy enough. Scripture says, “For by grace are ye saved through faith” and then makes the source plain: “it is the gift of God: not of works” (Ephesians 2:8–9).

That makes the old postal language unexpectedly beautiful. Imagine receiving something for which the necessary cost of return has already been provided. You do not purchase the way back. You respond to what has already been provided. Yet even here, the illustration has limits. A prepaid envelope returns automatically when someone puts something inside and sends it. A human heart does not.

The Gospel calls for a response. Jesus says, “repent ye, and believe the gospel” (Mark 1:15). John says that “as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God” (John 1:12). Romans speaks of confessing the Lord Jesus and believing in the heart (Romans 10:9–10). Christ has accomplished what we could never accomplish for ourselves, but Scripture calls us to repent, believe, receive, and follow Him. Grace is free. But grace is not meaningless. It calls us home.

And perhaps that is the most remarkable thing hidden inside this funny little word. A young woman once looked at words printed on an envelope and thought, That would make a neat name. Years passed. Life happened. Faith deepened. Eventually she looked at the same words and saw something entirely different.

Sometimes God can use pieces of our own history that seemed insignificant when they occurred—an old memory, a peculiar interest, something we learned at work, a garden, a tree, a letter, even a strange little acronym carried around for years. None of those things establishes spiritual truth. Scripture does that. But once Scripture has taught us the truth, ordinary things can sometimes help us see it from another angle.

And an old envelope can suddenly remind us of an extraordinary Gospel: there is a destination, there is a way, there is an invitation to return, and the price we could never pay for ourselves has already been paid by the Son of God. Perhaps FARPoG was never destined to become a brand of shoes after all. Perhaps it was waiting for a song.

Prayer

Father, thank You for providing through Jesus Christ what I could never provide for myself. Thank You that salvation is Your gift of grace and that Christ paid the price for my redemption. Keep my feet directed by Your Word and my heart turned toward You. When I wander, call me back. When I become uncertain of the way, remind me that Christ is the way. And take even the ordinary pieces of my life—the memories, experiences, and little things I once thought insignificant—and use them as You choose to point me and others toward Your truth. May I never confuse the illustration with the Gospel, but may every good illustration lead me back to the authority of Your Word and the grace You have given through Your Son. In Jesus' name, Amen.