Riley and Sarah

In the book of Luke Jesus tells the story of the prodigal son. You are probably familiar with the parable about a young man who asked his father for his inheritance early and left his family only to squander it away and have to return with his head hung low. Jesus tells us that even though the father had the right to turn his son away or make him a slave to his house, he joyfully welcomes his son home and celebrates his return.

I used to think about the prodigal son in this parable as someone who blatantly wasted something and then came back when his physical resources had run out. I related it to someone who perhaps purposefully turns their back on God. I saw it as someone who either deliberately or apathetically leaves their relationship with God and then comes crawling back when they realize they have gotten themselves into a predicament. I never really pictured myself as that person.

I never used to really understand how the story of the prodigal applied to me. I always thought it was a very moving story of forgiveness and unconditional love and I also felt it was nice to know that God would accept us back into his family no matter how far away we ran. However, I figured that since I had not actually ever completely walked away from my faith and then returned to God at a later date in life, that I didn’t exactly relate to the message.   

A few months ago, out of the blue, I started thinking about this parable and it hit me that I am the prodigal. I realized that even though I have never completely walked away from God, I often forget about God when things are going well. I don’t rely on him in the same way when my life is going well. Then when things get tough or I need something, I go to God. I forget to pray just to talk to God. Then I pray when something’s wrong or I’m asking him to do something for me or for someone else.

I have wasted gifts he has given me. I have not done things I felt he wanted me to do. I have left God in the background. I get angry with him when things don’t go my way. I have forgotten about him. I have tried to do things on my own. I do it every day really.

I don’t think the story of the prodigal son should be seen as a one-time happening. The son had likely hurt his father before. I’m not a parent yet, but I am someone’s child. As such I know that I have hurt my parents more than once and they have accepted me back more than once. And you know what… I think it may happen again one day. I am blessed to know that they will again take me back when that day comes.

It’s the same with God. In different ways I have walked away from him many times and he has accepted me back every time. How many times will he take me back? How many times will he listen to my requests when I haven’t had a conversation with him for days before that? How many times will he hear my apology for neglecting our relationship? How many times can I break his heart?

I know the answer: there is not limit. God will always take me back.

But I am the prodigal. You are the prodigal. We are each, in our own ways, that son who squandered what his father had lovingly bestowed upon him only to shamefully return and be met with not only unexpected grace and forgiveness but also anticipation and great joy.

I am, each and every day, the prodigal. 

– Sarah