Side note: The Prodigal Son

Read Luke 15:11–32, then continue…

I’m sure if you’ve been around my blog for very long, you will have become famil­iar with my read­ing of Sur­prise Me by Terry Esau.  A great book, cap­tur­ing the essence of grow­ing closer to God by wait­ing patiently on Him and His tim­ing.  The main con­cept is to sim­ply pray each day for God to do some­thing unex­pected in your life.  “Sur­prise me, God!”

I read this pas­sage a few days back and got to thinking…did the father of the prodi­gal son read this book, as well?  I believe the father prayed daily for his son to come to his senses and come home.  I can’t imag­ine a father who wouldn’t want the best for his son — not to res­cue him from this trou­ble, as that would make him weaker — but to have his son do right.  Each day, I can hear the father say­ing, “Dear Lord, my son has left my lov­ing arms.  He does not know how much pro­tec­tion I can offer and he does not know all the ways of the world.  Lord, please bring my son home to me, that I can teach him to be a great man.  Please get your hands on my son’s heart and bring him home.”  The father then stands from his bed­side and goes to his older son’s room, peek­ing around the cor­ner, whis­per­ing another short prayer to him­self, “Thank you, God, for giv­ing my elder son a good heart, that I can spend more time with him before he departs.”

The tables turn one after­noon, on a dusty road lead­ing to the father’s house, as the younger son walks up, think­ing to him­self how he will restart his rela­tion­ship with his father, whom he betrayed.  The father glances out the door to sur­vey the sun over his fields when he catches the sight of dust and a fig­ure on the road.  He rec­og­nizes, even at a dis­tance, the out­line of his sons shoul­ders, and arms.  He sees his sons fig­ure has changed slightly out of his hunger and change in lifestyle, but inside he knows who is com­ing home.  He runs out the door, full speed ahead, eyes wide open, ready to bring his son back to his safe haven.

The son, hear­ing the foot­steps run­ning toward him, just began to look up as his father came into full view between the plants in the field onto the road.  They meet each oth­ers eyes, and before the son could even utter his apol­ogy and ask for for­give­ness, his father had already given it.

Now, the younger son has asked for a for­give­ness which was already given, and the father decides to cel­e­brate his son’s home­com­ing, rather than to rub his son’s face in his sin, say­ing, “I told you so.”  At this time, the elder son noti­cies a change in the atmos­phere as he looks toward the house from the field, where he was still work­ing.  The elder son asks what is hap­pen­ing, but reacts very poorly to the answer.

I am reminded of how our Father for­gave us before we even thought of our actions long enough to real­ize our stu­pid­ity, and how He doesn’t take each thing we do and rub it in our face.  I am so thank­ful for a gra­cious and mer­ci­ful God, who for­gives each sin, cleans­ing it from our life with the bllof of His son, the lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world.  Our God is an awe­some God!  Should you find your­self in the place of either of the man’s sons, whether your’re com­ing home, or observ­ing some­one else’s home­com­ing, be sure your heart is right.  Keep your arms wide open to receive a repen­tant heart and sup­port those who are try­ing to make a dif­fer­ence in their lives.

You’ll find true hap­pi­ness here.