Lent - Coming home

Most of us have heard the story about the prodigal son.  The son squanders his dad's money, lives with the pigs, wants to come home, worries about coming home, goes home, the father runs to meet the son, they party. The End.

Today, Mike told the story again. And, it sounded different. Or maybe I was different and needed to hear it.   The story was the same - The son squanders his dad's money, lives with the pigs, wants to come home, worries about coming, goes home - but then something changes. 

He had been rehearsing in his head, "I'll tell my dad that I am no longer worthy to be your son. Make me your servant" during mile 1. 

Mile 9 came..."I'll tell my dad that I am no longer worthy to be your son. Make me your servant". 

Mile 18..."I'll tell my dad that I am no longer worthy to be your son. Make me your servant".

Maybe during one of those rehearsals time he sees someone in the distance running, sprinting towards him.  His father was running at the sight of seeing his son.  At the moment they finally met, the son had his rehearsal speech ready.  But the father didn't even address his son.

He told his servants, "Go get a robe.  Get a ring.  My son has come home."

The father didn't let the son use his excuses to prevent him from being his son.

The father simply gave him a robe. A ring. The qualities of son-ship.

Perhaps, this Lent season for me is about coming home in my heart.   I think Lent has surprised me so far. I thought it would be this glorious season of letting something go. The days would be met with grand times of worship and feelings on contentment.  Instead, the days are met with coming more and more to terms with just how much I need Him.  How much I want to want him.  How much I need to need Him.  How much I haven't needed Him but desperately want to.

Lent so far has been hard and challenging.  It's hurt and has been non-perfect and difficult.  But I do know that this is true - I have a Father that welcomes me with a sprint smack-dab into me when He sees me coming home. I have a Father who won't let my excuses or shame prevent me from being His daughter. I have a Father who exchanges my pig-slobbed clothes for a robe and put his seal of love on my finger. I have a Father who tells me again, "This is my daughter. She has come home".

This whole Lent season may be times of simply coming home over and over again in my heart.  But I certainly know that He is so faithful through these times and that He is doing a work in my heart even when I can't feel it.  So we keep walking and waiting and walking and waiting.  Maybe it's time to change the "rehearsal speech".  Maybe it's time to remember what we're walking towards - the Cross.  Then, it will be time to party.