(If you've not read through this story in a while, it's in Luke, chapter 15. A Hallmark movie moment if there ever was one.)
A few years back, more than I care to mention, I wrote a song with a friend of mine, Ray Dilworth, called "Prodigal". The chorus went like this:
Prodigal - always trying to run away.
Prodigal - got to have things your own way.
Prodigal - got no place to call your own.
Oh, Prodigal, won't you please just come back home.
It's a funny thing, that we will often run from what we love, to achieve what we want. An independent, self-reliant, call your own shots kind of living, because we fear the bonds that love creates will hold us back. Then, when the brass ring we chased after turns green, we think the bonds of love we ran from could never be strong enough to return to. Broken forever, with too much pride or guilt to ever be bonded again.
But that's no how true love works. True love isn't based on "you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours". The son in the story no longer felt he was worthy of love, but love isn't based on worth. The father had spent every day at the gate looking for his son, but giving him the choice to run away or run home. When he saw him, still a long way off, did he wait for him at the gate? No, he ran to his son! Did he tell him everything he did wrong, make sure he was good and sorry? No, he gave him a robe, and rings, and sandals, and put on a feast!
Maybe we don't come to God because we fear what He will do. The term "wrath of God" comes to mind. But then we are forgetting "a clean and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise". (Psalm 51:17) Turn to God, and his arms will embrace you in love, not crush you into submission. There is no greater joy in the heart of God, than to see a child come home. And the retuning child is robed in His deep, never-ending love, not lashed with a whip.
Oh, Prodigal, won't you please just come back home?
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