“So
he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way
off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran
to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. The son said to
him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no
longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his
servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on
his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it.
Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is
alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.”
- Luke 15:20-24 NIV
***
Both
sons were lost, but only one of them knew it. The story used to
frustrate me because I was the older son. I'm doing the right things,
I'm following the rules, and yet, there's no praise for me. Then life
happens and you change and grow and make more mistakes.
And I realized that I'm the younger son.
Not
because I'm no longer "good", but because I can see that I'm not good. I
can see how far I've strayed, that I need grace. I can see that I was
never worthy in my own right, but because of my Father's love.
You really can go back home.
To
roots, to foundation, to square one. To the beginning, but wiser now
that you know you aren't that wise. We leave home thinking we'll find
ourselves, but some of us, in tired moments, realize we are lost.
And, somewhere in that moment... We are found.
***
"I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself
if I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me."
- The House That Built Me, Miranda Lambert
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