And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him. [Luke 15:20 (NLT)]
I was re-writing and updating my prayer list when I came to the names of several prodigals. Some of their names have been on that list for nearly two decades; during that time, they’ve been in and out trouble, jail, and rehab. Having wasted most of their lives, each one of them one would qualify as the poster child for lost causes. I thought of not adding their names to my new list. “After all, what’s the point?” I wondered.
I then thought of the parable of the prodigal son—a young man with plenty of opportunities who squandered his money and broke his father’s heart. When life got really tough and the pigs were living better than he, the boy finally repented and returned home to the welcoming and forgiving arms of his father. Like the prodigal son, when they were in financial or legal difficulties, the prodigals on my prayer list often returned home for a warm bed, financial and legal assistance, and even another trip to rehab. Unlike the prodigal son, however, they never managed to truly repent and always returned to their old friends and way of life.
What if there was another chapter to Jesus’s story of the prodigal son? What if, after cleaning up, getting some good meals in his belly, and obtaining a few coins in his pocket, the boy had returned to his life as a wastrel? How would his father have reacted? What would his father have done if his son, after wasting everything again, had returned home a second time? Would his father have rejoiced and thrown his arms around the boy? What if it happened again and again? Would his father eventually have stopped looking for his lost son? In anger, would he eventually have barred the gates and turned his back on his child?
I think not. Jesus’s parable was about forgiveness and hope, God’s grace and mercy, and His lavish love for his children. I think the father would have continued to run to his child and welcome him back every time he returned. Although God won’t enable His prodigals in their sinful ways, I believe He will receive them every time they come home, forgive them when they repent, and shed tears if they relapse and return to their old ways.
Our Heavenly Father will continue to forgive and welcome them (and us) back again and again until they (and we) finally get it right. With God there are no lost causes, only lost children. If God hasn’t given up hope, neither will I. For all of His lost sheep, I will continue to pray that they eventually find their way home and into the arms of their loving Father.
I’ve wandered far away from God, Now I’m coming home;
The paths of sin too long I’ve trod, Lord, I’m coming home.
I’ve wasted many precious years, Now I’m coming home;
I now repent with bitter tears, Lord, I’m coming home.
I’m tired of sin and straying, Lord, Now I’m coming home;
I’ll trust Thy love, believe Thy Word, Lord, I’m coming home.
Coming home, coming home, Nevermore to roam,
Open wide Thine arms of love, Lord, I’m coming home.
[“Lord, I’m Coming Home” by William J Kirkpatrick]
Our pod is missing! Well, not exactly missing but no one can tell us where it is! We only know that the large box holding our precious possessions is no longer sitting in our driveway back in Illinois nor is it sitting in our driveway here in Florida. While the company promises us that it will arrive by September 29, their responses to our inquiries don’t inspire much confidence. How can they know when it will arrive if they don’t know where it is? Moreover, no one can tell us why it will take four weeks to travel 1,378 miles! Although I keep reminding myself that it’s just stuff, it is our stuff—the stuff we cared about enough to keep and move.
When we moved to our small Midwestern town over fifty years ago, we paid our utility bills at the local drugstore and I longed for the “good old days” when we sold our northern home recently. Trying to update our information and go completely paperless, I attempted to access our various accounts on line, meaning I had to remember (or create) a wide variety of user names and passwords. If I managed to sign in, I’d get to the security questions and discover that my favorite color or dessert is not what I thought it was! Once past that hurdle, I had to prove I wasn’t a robot by deciphering those squiggly letters and numbers (a near impossibility)!
The story is told of a circuit-riding preacher who never failed to thank God for the day’s weather. One Sunday, after battling through wind and sleet to his preaching appointment in a distant town, the congregation wondered how he could be thankful in such dreadful weather. When it came time for prayer, however, he said, “This is a wretched day, dear Lord, no doubt about it. But, we thank Thee, Lord, that every day isn’t as bad as this one!”
Under King Solomon’s reign, the temple and palace were built in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, to accomplish this task, the people were severely overworked and heavily taxed. When Solomon’s son Rehoboam became king, the populace pled with him to reduce their taxes and ease up on the labor demands. The sacrifices they’d endured during the building of the temple could not be sustained forever. They pledged to be Rehoboam’s loyal subjects in return for his lightening their load.
At last Sunday’s worship, we sang Frances Havergal’s beautiful hymn “Lord, Speak to Us, That We May Speak.” First published in 1872, the hymn originally had the heading “A Worker’s Prayer,” and made reference to Romans 14:7: “none of us lives to himself alone.” It is a simple prayer that God will speak to, lead, feed, teach and fill us so that He can use us in the service of His kingdom. Busyness had taken over my days and, having fallen behind in my writing, my supply of devotions was running dangerously low. Indeed, I needed Him to speak to me so that I could speak!
