It\u2019s the one story that gets me over and over again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a young man, probably in his early\/mid twenties, who had had enough. Like many young adults of his time, he was loose, carefree, and really didn\u2019t do a lot of thinking about what mattered most in life. He lived for the moment\u2026 no matter how it would affect life later. He didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His relationship with his family wasn\u2019t great; they were clearly unenamored with his happy-go-lucky living and his unwillingness to help around the home. His father was deeply concerned. His mother spent days on her knees praying. And his older brother was disgusted; it wasn\u2019t fair that his sibling refused to participate in any household responsibilities. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Let\u2019s be honest; the young man cared only for himself, rarely thinking of others. He only did what he wanted to do. He was hurtful, and he was rude. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Living for the moment, he became increasingly demanding. So much so that he went to his father, insisting on his inheritance now.<\/em> He wanted the money to sustain his lifestyle. His father, loving his kid unconditionally even though his kid couldn\u2019t see it, obliged. He gave him in dollars half the value of the property their family owned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ungrateful as the young man was, he took the money and ran\u2026 off to the big city, still no care in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There the son did all he wanted. He ate, drank and partied with the best of them. He could care less about cost; if he wanted it, he bought it. For years he engaged in a reckless way of living \u2014 living for the moment, blowing all his money, working never, and committed to no one or nothing long term. Note that the recklessness was less about his actual activity than his care and gratitude for others. It was minimal and inconsistent at best.<\/p>\n\n\n\n All was wonderful and fine in the young man\u2019s mind. That is, until the money was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There was no one to help out, no one to grant a favor. The young man treated most all relationships terribly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And so regrettably, with nothing on his resume to qualify him for something more, he got a job picking up the city\u2019s trash \u2014 up early in the morning, ’til late at night, manual labor, cleaning up everyone else\u2019s garbage. It was ugly and hard. He made little and ate little; he was miserable for months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He didn\u2019t know what to do. The only person he thought may love him still was his father. He always said he did. He always said he would. The young man had treated him terribly; more than anything, he had simply ignored him. He expressed no care, no gratitude; he lived his life in a way that never acknowledged a dad who loved him so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And thus the young man scraped up his last bits of money, bought a bus ticket, and made the long, pensive journey home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It’s sobering to imagine all that happened next. The boy dejectedly saunters up the long drive \u2014 totally opposite the hop, skip and a jump he left with years before \u2014 still unsure of what he\u2019s going to say… Will they forgive me? I didn\u2019t know what I didn\u2019t know.<\/em>..<\/p>\n\n\n\n And in the picture that causes me most pause, we\u2019re told that while he was still a long way off, his father sees him. His father sees him because he was outside, waiting, believing one day his son would return. And he doesn\u2019t just stay on the front porch, crafting a well-deserved rebuke; he runs.<\/em> He runs<\/em> to his son.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Midway down the drive, they embrace. They cry. The tears just fall. The son attempts to get some words out… \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t know. I treated you so badly. I didn\u2019t acknowledge you \u2014 wasn\u2019t grateful for you.\u201d<\/em> To which the father simply says, \u201cIt\u2019s ok. You are home! Let’s celebrate. Time for a feast… my kid is home!”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n On Easter especially, I think of this story. It reminds me of how God craves a relationship with each of us. But we aren\u2019t robots; he allows us to choose him. The reality is we are always welcome home, no matter who we are, what we\u2019ve done or what\u2019s been done to us. That’s the message of Easter. There is no situation too far gone, no heart too broken, and no story too messy that God can\u2019t redeem. That\u2019s the hope we carry today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Happy Easter, friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Blessings to you always…<\/p>\n\n\n\n AR<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It\u2019s the one story that gets me over and over again. There was a young man, probably in his early\/mid twenties, who had had enough. Like many young adults of his time, he was loose, carefree, and really didn\u2019t do a lot of thinking about what mattered most in life. He lived for the moment\u2026 … <\/p>\n