Think You’re Too Prodigal For God? Part 2

Every time I’ve wandered away from God, whether a few steps or into a whole new neighborhood, I’ve always eventually noticed that niggling, persistent, “I need to get back where I’m from” feeling. (The Holy Spirit, with His version of, “Hey, Stupid!”) At times, I’ve ignored it, because I didn’t really feel like I’d wandered. At times, I ignored it because I knew that in order to go home, I’d have to give up whatever it was that had caused me to wander. Isn’t it funny how we do that? Rich Mullins (currently hogging the coffee in Heaven, most likely) had a great line in his song, “Hold Me Jesus”. It goes, “I’d rather fight You for something I don’t really want/Than take what You give that I need”. Profoundly true, I think.

Eventually, some times later than others, I’ve reached a place where I KNEW I needed and wanted to go home. That’s when the doubts would kick in. Had I used up all of God’s patience? Had I gone too far, offended Him too deeply? Would God welcome me home, reluctantly allow me home on a legal technicality (the saving grace of Jesus Christ) or turn me away altogether?

I always wanted God to tell me beforehand what His response would be, because I was afraid that the responses He’d already preserved in His word may no longer apply to me. I wanted some sign, some assurance that He still loved me, still wanted me.

I don’t remember ever getting a sign. Not once. I had to go ahead and start on the road home that the prodigal son of the Bible trod. But, I usually only had to take one or two steps before I heard from my Father. Then I got my assurance; then I got my sign. And I got my welcome. Every time.

If you’ve felt like a perpetual prodigal, I know the fears you’re struggling with. Maybe you’ve wandered one time too many. Maybe you’ve wandered too far. Maybe your sins have been too dire, too dark.

I don’t know where you’ve been or what you’ve done, but I do know this: You haven’t out-wandered or out-sinned me. I’ve done things I don’t whisper to myself in the dark. If you felt led to read this, it’s because you can still hear the gentle voice of the Holy Spirit and that means you haven’t managed to wander out of earshot.

If, like me, you’ve wanted some sign from God that He’ll take you back, you’re in luck. You don’t need a burning bush or a white-robed angel backed by a full orchestra. You’ve got me, the Forrest Gump of Christian women, clanking down the prodigal road. And there’s God, down at the gate, yelling, “RUN, Forrest, RUN!”.

Believe me, my friend: If He welcomed me back, He’s going to be all kinds of excited to see you.