Head to the House

I’m sure y’all all know the story of the prodigal son. He took off from home and got heavily involved in the things of the world. He squandered his inheritance on all the things the world had to offer – loose living, wild parties, expensive status symbols…all of it – only to end up broke, homeless and abandoned by his “friends.” He took a job feeding hogs, and he was so hungry that the pig slop started looking good. Yet, when he came to his senses and headed home, his Daddy, his Abba Father, welcomed him home with open arms. He didn’t just welcome him home; his Daddy CELEBRATED his homecoming. His Daddy rejoiced over him.

Most of us can identify with some part of that story. We have BEEN a kid, or HAD a kid, or been in a situation that helps us to connect somehow with that parable. For me, I think of my family and I moving several states away from home and the trials and tribulations we had while we were there. Then I think of the times that we came back home for holidays (and eventually when we came home for good) and how glad I was to be home. But also, how glad my parents were (especially in the light of all we were going through) to have us home. Daddy would always call and want to know when we were coming. He would email me and tell me how glad he would be to see us. Mama and Daddy both called to check on us while we were on the road. Once, I was on the phone with my mother, trying to get packed to come home and telling her how I just had a few more loads of laundry before I would be finished. She said, “I have a washing machine. Throw it all in a garbage bag and come on home.”

Now that I am a parent, I know that there is something about having your child (and eventually your child and their family) close, that makes you feel better about their safety, and as if you have some control over the situation at hand, even if it’s just an illusion. As a mother, even though you want your children to go and do, and experience the plans God has for them, you always want them to know they have a place to come home to when they need it – just like the story of the prodigal son.

Here is the picture I see in my mind’s eye: I think of the son walking up the driveway to his Daddy’s house, and the dogs start barking (y’all know that’s how it works in the south). Daddy goes and looks out the screen door to see what the dogs are barking at and sees a figure in the distance.  It takes him a minute to realize that it’s his son coming up the drive. The boy is thinner than he remembers.  As he bursts through the screen door he yells into the kitchen, “Mama, it’s our boy! He’s home!” The screen door slams about the time Mama gets to the window to look. She peers out and sees her husband running down the driveway, arms wide open, to greet the son they haven’t seen in so long. Maybe they didn’t even know if he was dead or alive. The next thing you know Mama has his old room ready and clean sheets on his bed and she has his favorite meal on the stove. That night, as the grown son is sleeping in his old bed, exhausted from his recent ordeal, his Mama and Daddy are standing in the doorway watching him sleep like they did when he was little. And they are thanking the Lord that he is home.

THAT’S the way He loves us, y’all.

JUST.

LIKE.

THAT.

It doesn’t matter where we have been, or how long we have been gone. It doesn’t matter what we have been doing, or that when we get there we look like something that you’d be ashamed to take to a worm wrestle. He doesn’t care. He just wants us home. Everything else can be remedied, cleaned, forgiven, taken care of. He will feed us and clothe us and clean us up. He will make sure we have what we need. He is just glad to see us home. THAT’S the kind of love your heavenly Abba Father has for you. So if you have strayed from the path – if you have been out squandering your inheritance – and you are tired of being so beaten down that even the pig slop looks good, go on home. Head towards the house. Your room is waiting. And when you get to the driveway listen carefully. I bet you can hear the screen door slam as your Father runs out to meet you.

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