In April of 1984, I gave my heart to Christ Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. I wish I knew then what I have learned now. I wish I would have had the foresight to know what was coming and what to avoid and how to navigate away from the stuff of earth.
prod·i·gal: Rashly or wastefully extravagant
Of course, now I am curious to what’s behind the word rashly.
“An outbreak of many instances within a brief period“
If there ever was a definition of anything where one could so easily fill in the blanks, this would be it. Frankly, before 1984, I’m not sure what of value I carried that would deem me a prodigal of any stretch of the imagination. Heck, I was only fourteen.
But ever since, that’s another story.
I could think of a hundred words that would describe that of any value which I have extravagantly wasted since that day in April of 1984. Like a scar that never goes away, I can think of each outbreak of instances within a brief period in which I was wastefully extravagant.
And yet, the Father still loves me.
When the weight of His grace becomes too much to bear, it’s time to come home. It means you’re empty. It means you are now void of anything worth being extravagantly wasteful over. It means you can stop running now. It means you can stop trying to prove yourself now.
Of all people the prodigal. And here I thought I never was.
Oh how I wish I returned home much sooner. Now I know what was on the other side of the woman who had hemorrhaged for years who fought through the crowd with part desperation and part faith in hopes of just touching the hem of His garment.
Perhaps on one side was the Savior, the other a prodigal.
For those who fought through the crowd for me…
All I have to give are tears of thanks. And for the One who wears that garment… my heart.
Of all people the prodigal… Home for the last time, home for good.