Redemption – Hope Walking

Let Him In!

Jack was jogging through his local county park one grey afternoon when he felt an intense pain run down his left arm. Slowing his pace he turned down a wooded path that led back to his car. The light grew dimmer, and then, much to his surprise, the sun appeared and he noticed a wall on each side that he’d never seen before. At the end was a white gate, then a green garden filled with sunshine.

When Jack reached the gate a kind-faced woman opened it, smiled and said, “Welcome Jack. I’m Marie. They’re expecting you. Please sit over by the flowering tree and someone will be right with you.”

Then she walked about 30 yards, went through a door in a hedge, and was gone.

Jack knew he should be disturbed by these strange circumstances, yet he wasn’t. He felt uncommonly relaxed. He was wondering what tree produced such colorful and fragrant blossoms, and where his car had gone, when a young handsome man approached him.

“Welcome, Jack,” he said. “I’m Elias. I just want to ask you a few questions and your escort will take you to your room. Do you have any favorite colors?”

“Well, I really like yellows, bright blue and white. But why do you want to know?” asked Jack.

”We’re getting your place ready for you,” Elias said as he made notes in a file folder. “What view do you prefer: woods, fields, mountains, lake?”
“Lake, please,” said Jack. “But tell me, why am I here? Am I dead?”
“Not anymore,” Elias said.“You had a heart attack on the jogging path. When you walk through the door in the hedge you will enter unending life. There is just one thing you will do before you go to that door. It is our custom here to let the newest arrival greet the next arrival, as Marie greeted you. I’ll stay here with you until he arrives.”

Jack couldn’t tell how long they waited. It seemed to him that time was no longer important. He felt content and joyful like never before. He wanted to sit there forever. Then he heard steps approaching the gate. Elias took out another file and said, “This is Mike. Please open the gate and let him in.”

Jack happily walked toward the gate, but when he saw Mike, everything changed.

A volcano of fear, grief, hate and anger erupted inside Jack. He reheard the shouts, the shots, the explosive crash, saw the blood everywhere and felt the cold face of the friend he loved.

“No!” he cried. “No! I can’t let him in. Elias, don’t you know what he did?”

Elias’s eyes spoke understanding, but his voice was steady and low. “No, I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have his record?” insisted Jack incredulously.

“No, we don’t. All records were destroyed by our Lord.”

“There must be a record somewhere,” Jack insisted.

“Oh, yes, there is, but it’s not here. The Accuser has it. He saves everything.”

“The Accuser?”

“Yes, the Accuser. In Hebrew he’s called Satan.”

“Wait, you have some records. When I got here you knew my name and some of my history.”

“Oh, yes, of course we know some things, like when you started to follow the Lord. Let me see. Michael Sullivan. Born again April 18, 2021, McCreary Prison, Lexington, Kentucky.”

“You have prisoners here?!” Jack exclaimed.

“Oh, no! We don’t imprison anyone. That would be the other place. So, are you going to let him in?”

“Look, I don’t see why I am under any obligation to open the door for Mike. That would be like saying I forgive him for what he did to me.”

“Precisely”

“But I never agreed to that.”

“Oh, but you did. Thousands of times.”

“Thousands of times? When?”

“Did you ever pray the prayer the Lord taught his disciples?” Elias asked. “You call it the Lord’s Prayer.”

“Of course I’ve prayed it. Ever since I was a kid. We even used to pray it in school when I was little. What’s that got to do with this?”

After a pause, Elias continued, “Did you pray ‘forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us?’”

After a long silence Jack admitted he had.

“Well, then,” Elias said. “Forgive Mike the way our Lord has forgiven you…totally.”

“But that’s impossible,” Jack wailed.

“God never asks us to do impossible things. Hard, but not impossible.”

“But, can’t I ask God to forgive me even if I can’t forgive Mike?”

“Let me ask you something, Jack. Do you remember the story of the prodigal son? Even when his father begged him, the older son refused to join the party.”

Jack quickly glanced at Mike, waiting to be let in, and nodded.

“Do you still have the letter?” Elias asked.

Jack knew what letter Elias meant, the letter from the Victim-offender Reconciliation Program at the prison.

“Look,” continued Elias. “the door to unending life is right over there. It’s called forgiveness. It’s not called, “I forgive” or “I’m forgiven” it’s simply called “forgiveness.” You either want to go there, or you don’t. As soon as you let Mike in you can go together.”

Jack shook his head. “I can’t. I’m not ready. I need more time.”

“You want more time, Jack?” Elias asked.

Jack nodded.

“Granted.”

Jack felt his body lift and fall. Glaring lights blinded him. He heard a “beep, beep, beep” over his head.

“He’s back,” exclaimed a woman in blue scrubs.

‘Oh, no!” thought Jack. “What have I done?”

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Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. Mark 11:25

The Father and His Sons Part 4

The noise of the celebration grew as word of the son’s return spread through the community. Friends and neighbors showed up to welcome him home. (click here for Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

The band arrived and music spewed into the nearby fields, reaching the ear of the older brother. He had been working hard and was uncomfortably hot when he stopped to wonder what the noise was.

“What neighbor could possibly be having a celebration on a work day?” he wondered. Looking around for an answer he was stunned to realize the commotion was from his father’s house.

Not having been told of any plans for a party, he called one of the servants and sent him to see what was going on.

When the servant returned he rather shyly told the older son that his father had hired a band and killed the fattened calf.

“What would ever make him do that?” demanded the son.

“Well,” the servant began hesitantly. “Well.”

“Well what!”

“Well, your brother has come home.”

“My brother is home and this is what my father does!” the son fumed, as he threw down his field tools and rushed to the house, sputtering insults as he went.

When he arrived in the front yard his father saw him and motioned him to come in and join the party.

But he would not. He stayed outside, getting more and more enraged.

Finally his father came out. The father should not have had to come out. His oldest son’s refusal to come in was insulting. But the father loved him.

“Son,” he said. “Please come in and celebrate with me. You know how heartsick I have been since your brother left. But now he is home. We can forget the sorrow and be happy again. Please come in.”

But he would not go in. Instead he quite disrespectfully yelled at his father.

“Look, all these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, but you never gave me even a little goat, so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!”

Now this father’s heart broke all over again. But he loved both his sons, so he said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It’s right that we celebrate and are glad, for your brother was dead, and now is alive; he was lost, and is found.”

And that is the end of the story. Jesus doesn’t tell us if the older brother joins the party. I think he wants you to decide.

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Scripture referenced: Luke 15:25-32

Red and Yellow, Black and Blue

“Red and yellow, black and blue….”

My three year old granddaughter was holding her newborn brother for the first time. We were taking cute shot after cuter shot, when she stopped “saying cheese” for us and looked into her tiny brother’s face.

Giving him a sweet little-mom smile she started softly singing, “Jesus loves the little children, all the children in the world, Red and yellow, black and blue, they are…” Her little voice stopped, looking for words to finish. “I don’t know what the words are,” she said.

My son, her dad, did a quick rewrite and sang with her, “Red and yellow, black and blue, they are precious to Him, too. Jesus loves the little children of the world.”

“Red and yellow, black and blue” makes me recall how many bruises my boys had as they grew. They both gave themselves black eyes as they learned to walk. And one of them had so many black and blue marks on his legs from learning to ride a bike, I was sure his pediatrician would look suspiciously at me. When I told him that, he assured me the bruises did not fit patterns of abuse.

We don’t want to think about how many children wear those patterns of abuse. My office in a medical center was across the hall from the emergency room, One afternoon a badly bruised four year old was brought in. Our hearts broke when he died. Red and yellow, black and blue, they are precious to him, too.

I know an EMT who was called to revive a 3 month old who had been thrown against a wall. I know a teacher whose middle school student was hit and pushed by his mother until he suffered a brain injury and died And I’ve seen the photos of late-term babies after abortions ended their short lives, their baby skins darkly bruised.

Black and blue, they are precious to him, too.

We can be tempted to ask God why, if he loves them, he lets these abuses happen.

I think God however asks us, why, since he values them so much, we let these abuses happen.

Every child I just mentioned was in a situation that was known to be dangerous to the child. Someone could have intervened and chose not to, for fear of their own safety or livelihood.

Black and blue in many ways, we are all broken.

My granddaughter’s sweet pose with her baby reminded me of a famous statue that moved my heart when I saw it many years ago, Michelangelo’s “Pieta.” If any mother ever held an abused and bruised child, it was Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus.

God took on flesh and suffered with every beaten kid, thrown toddler and aborted baby. Black and blue, they are precious to him, too.

The prophet Isaiah says,”He lifted up our illnesses, he carried our pain;… He was wounded because of our rebellious deeds,
crushed because of our sins;
he endured punishment that made us well;
because of his wounds we have been healed.”

Because Jesus rose from death I know that, in the end, there will be justice for every abused child. But there is also forgiveness offered for every abuser and every bystander who watched in silence. Everyone who wants to be healed, will be.

“Jesus died for all the children, all the children of the world. Red, brown, yellow, black and blue, they are precious to him, too. Jesus died for all the children of the world.”

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Scriptures: Isaiah 53:4-5 (NET )

Katie’s Cookies

When my sons were very little I brought home from the grocery story a Sesame Street book that held a recipe for Cookie Monster cookies. The recipe page had cute illustrations of Cookie Monster throwing all the ingredients in a large bowl and stirring them up with a huge fork. We followed his lead and thus began a family tradition of Cookie Monster cookies for Christmas.

Year after year we bought more and more cookie cutters and thrust them into rolled out dough – tin soldiers, doves, Santa’s sleigh, snow men, Christmas trees and such. Icing, sprinkles and edible silver balls completed the sweet joys.

And then came the year Katie died. We knew she was struggling health-wise, but her death just before Christmas and her 11th birthday, shook us with unexpected grief. Her parents chose to receive Katie’s mourners in their home. And so, with beautiful Katie’s still body resting in the living room, we were going to gather in the kitchen to share tears and food.

What should I bring? I peered in the fridge and saw the bowl of cookie dough. Inspiration hit and I started rolling dough and cutting out crosses and angels.

Arriving at Katie’s house I handed the plate of cookies to her mom and said, “These are resurrection cookies.”

Every Christmas since we have baked crosses and angels to celebrate Katie’s life and coming resurrection.

I wonder if the same angel who went to the shepherds with the news of great joy also greeted Jesus’s mourners.

Maybe the angel who told young Mary she would bear a son also told her,“Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.”

“Do not be afraid.”

“Do not be afraid,” the angels say again and again.

Do not be afraid because there was a cross, and Jesus did die and live again.

“Don’t be afraid, for look, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people: Today in the city of David a Savior was born for you, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

A Savior was born for Katie.

A Savior was born for you.

If you roll out some cookie dough this week, I hope you make crosses and angels,

because Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

Do you believe this? Then rejoice and do not be afraid.

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Scripture references: Luke 2:10,11; Matthew 28:5,6

Would You Ever Leave Again?

What do you think about the older brother’s reaction to his brother’s returning home? Read about him here.

In Jesus’ story we often refer to the younger brother as “the prodigal son.” You know how after wasting his father’s hard-earned wealth, he finds himself destitute, walks home barefoot, and is enthusiastically greeted by his dad who throws a big party to celebrate his return.

What could possibly have given the younger son the courage to walk back up to the door from which he had so arrogantly departed? What kind of man do you think the son knew his father to be? At least he knew he was a good man, not lacking in compassion or prone to retribution. I would guess he also knew his father loved him. That he did not expect the welcome home celebration he received tells us he had underestimated both his father’s love and his father’s grief when he left home. But he knew his father would treat him as well as any other beggar who showed up asking for work, so he went home.

Imagine yourself in this son’s place. You are expecting a lecture and hoping for a few pieces of bread, and instead you get the best clothes, a ring on your finger and the fattened calf with the local band. Would you ever leave your father again?!

Now imagine you are the older brother. You had watched your dad worry and grieve over your brother. You saw him age years in the months his son was away. You had hoped to never see the ungrateful brat again, but here he is and your father has not held back anything to celebrate. And you are mad! So you stay outside, hoping your father will notice how mad you are. When he sees you he comes out with a big smile on his face and begs you to please come in and be glad with him. Why do you refuse?

I love the story of the prodigal son because it speaks so clearly and loudly of God’s heart for you and me. He wants us home. Never mind where you have been – never mind what you have done – never mind all the time you wasted – just come home and celebrate our being a family. Your Father loves you. He wants you with him, under his roof, safe and sound, surrounded by love.

Jesus told us to pray, “your will be done.” Maybe we left home like this younger son because we thought we knew better how to enjoy life. When we found out how wrong we were, we went home, knowing our Father’s will was our good. Would we ever leave again?

How different this is from the relationship the older son has with his father when he says,

“Look, all these years I have worked for you like a slave, and I have never disobeyed your orders.”

He’s doing the father’s will, but his obedience is contractual, and he feels like a hired worker.

Meanwhile inside the younger son is eating and dancing and reveling in his father’s love. Tomorrow morning the three of them will head out to the fields together.

Which son would you rather be?

Pray Like This: Your Kingdom Come

How would you describe the perfect country (the perfect kingdom?) Stop for a moment and think about it. Make a mental list of what that kingdom would be like.

For thousands of years men and women have dreamed of the perfect kingdom, utopias where everything is perfect. They dreamed of places where everyone is fed, everyone gets along with their neighbors, and fighting never molests the peace. Building utopias has often been tried, but has always ended in disasters where tyrannical rule took over. History proves that. There are no Camelots we can point at and say, “There!”

The crowds who followed Jesus fully expected him to usher in the perfect Jewish kingdom with himself as king. But when Jesus was before the Roman ruler Pilate, who asked, ”Are you a king?” Jesus answered,

“My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, …. But my kingdom is not from the world.”

Jesus taught us to pray “your kingdom come.” He had two basic rules for his kingdom. The second being “love your neighbor as yourself.” Look at your mental list for the perfect kingdom. If everyone followed this simple rule I can project that your kingdom would exist. Easy enough?

So why are we so bad at building utopias? It’s because we do not have it in ourselves to build them. We do not have it in ourselves to love our neighbors as ourselves. If you are married or have children you know that no matter how much you love your spouse or child, self-interest often rules and ruins the day. We want to live in our perfect kingdoms where we are the kings and queens, even at the expense of others. Utopias crumble under the weight of our selfishness.

But Jesus’ kingdom did not crumble. Pilate, who was wise to the ruthless power plays of the Roman Empire, stood stunned before Jesus who refused to even defend himself. Then, in a move to keep his own power intact, Pilate ordered Jesus’ crucifixion. In the greatest irony every, Jesus’ kingdom rose with power when he laid down his life for us, the most perfectly selfless act in all history.

When Jesus asks us to pray “Your kingdom come,” it is an invitation into the unconquerable Kingdom of God where you are loved and cared for beyond anything you can imagine. Jesus doesn’t just tell us to stop acting selfishly, he enables us to do so by transforming us with His overwhelming love.

Take a minute to read about the son who came home in this post and this and this. There’s a big party at the end, but the elder brother refuses to go in. You can read about it here. Let me know what you think the older brother decides, and I will meet you back here next week.

Choose Your King

Jerusalem, 30 AD. An itinerant teacher from Galilee borrows a donkey and rides downtown followed by a cheering crowd. He goes into the temple and starts acting like he owns the place. Today, 1991 years later, we are still talking about it.

Overturning tables and chairs, spilling coins, driving out dealers of pigeons, Jesus clears the temple court of merchants and money changers. He accuses the authorities of turning this place of prayer into a den of thieves. They, in turn, are indignant and plot to eliminate the troublemaker.

The dispute here runs much deeper than disagreement about the use of the courtyard. The question is really about who is king.

The chief priests were ruling like kings, backed by the Roman Empire. The were interlopers, having neither the right to the office of chief priest or claim to be rulers. But they had power and wealth, so they didn’t care about rightful succession – at least not until the rightful heir to the throne and the temple showed up riding a donkey.

A courtyard filled with children yelling “Hosanna to the Son of David!” was too much truth for them.

If you recall the Christmas story you know that Jesus was born into the House of David. King David, before he died, prepared stones, timber and hardware for the building of the temple. His son King Solomon built the temple. Their descendant King Hezekiah cleansed the temple after a period of neglect. And his descendent, King Zerubbabel, returned to Jerusalem from exile and rebuilt the temple the Babylonians had torn down. Now their descendent Jesus walks in and claims the place. He also claims standing as the son of God.

Five days later Jesus is under arrest. His hands are tied and he is on trial before Pilate, the Roman proconsul, having been handed over by the chief priests.

Pilate asks him, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

Outside a crowd, stirred up by the chief priests, is yelling, “We have no king but Caesar.”

You know what happens next. Pilate finds Jesus innocent but orders crucifixion; he is afraid of the king in Rome, Caesar. The priests go celebrate their holiday, thinking their status with Caesar is secure. Those who have chosen Jesus as king, shocked and confused, go home and mourn.

Had you been there in Jerusalem, whom would you have chosen, Jesus or Caesar?

Every day, whether we think about it or not, we choose our king. High priests of our culture are demanding your obedience. They might use their wealth and power of influence to cancel and destroy you if you choose Jesus. Click here if you don’t know what I am talking about.

Before his arrest Jesus made a promise to his friends: “Your sorrow will turn into joy.” He kept that promise. When Sunday came he rose from death and the world changed forever.

Choose your king wisely. All the rulers and priests who tried to cancel Jesus are gone, as today’s soon will be.

Jesus is alive and looking for you. Choose wisely.

The God Who Answers

What is the name of the God you pray to? We know it’s important to identify who we’re talking to; that’s why we have caller ID. If I don’t know who it is, I don’t pick up. Would you like to know God “picks up” when you call?

A long time ago in Israel the people had a choice of which God to call on. They were in a desperate situation. No rain had fallen on the land in over 3 years. They were running out of food to eat, and they had to turn their farm animals loose because they couldn’t water them.

The prophet Elijah told the people Israel’s God, the Lord, Yahweh, was the true and living God and they needed to worship only him. But the people were not so sure. There were hundreds of prophets telling them to worship Baal. Baal was known as the god of storms, rain, lightening and thunder. The people were afraid that if they stopped praying to Baal it would never rain. They couldn’t make up their minds, so God told Elijah to help them.

Elijah set up a contest on top of a mountain and called all the people to come watch. The prophets of Baal came, all 450 of them. Elijah brought two bulls. He gave one to the Baal prophets to kill and burn as an offering to their god. BUT they could not light the fire; no matches or lighters. They had to call on Baal to come down and consume the bull. Elijah would call on Yahweh to light the fire under his bull. Whichever god sent fire would show he was the true god.

This should have been easy for Baal, because he was supposed to be the god of lighting. One bolt would do it. So Elijah sat down and watched them call on Baal to light their fire.

Elijah sat and watched all morning, and so did the huge crowd, but nothing happened. Around noon Elijah started to ask them where Baal was.

“You better yell louder,” Elijah said. “Maybe he’s asleep and you need to wake him up.”

The prophets yelled as loud as they could, dancing around the altar. But nothing. No one answered.

“Do you think he’s away? “ Elijah taunted. “Maybe he’s on vacation. Or maybe he had to go to the bathroom.”

Finally the prophets got knives and cut themselves until their faces, arms and legs were covered in blood. They thought that would bring Baal, who liked the smell of blood. But nothing happened.

When it was time for the traditional evening sacrifice to Yahweh, Elijah told everyone to come watch him.

Elijah had gallons and gallons of water poured all over his bull, sticks and stone altar until the water ran everywhere. There was no way anyone could light that fire. What was he thinking?

Then Elijah prayed, “O Yahweh, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, and that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your word. Answer me, O Yahweh, answer me, that this people may know that you, O Yahweh, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.”

When he finished praying fire from Yahweh fell. It burned up the bull. It burned all the sticks and the stones of the altar. It even licked up the water. Nothing remained, not one drop of water. The people fell down and worshiped Yahweh. And the bogus prophets ran away in fear. A few hours later it started to rain hard.

Once in a village just outside Jerusalem Jesus stood in a contest. The people could not decide who he was, even though he had told them. So he stood outside the tomb of his friend Lazarus who had been dead for four days. There was a large crowd, and when Jesus asked for the door to the tomb to be rolled away, everyone expected a horrible stench to come out.

But Jesus prayed, ““Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.”

Then Jesus yelled, “Lazarus, come out!”

The surprised crowd fell silent. But the silence was pierced by the joyful shrieks from Lazarus’ sisters as they ran to embrace him.

Some persons standing there believed in Jesus, that he was the Messiah, the Son of God. But the sad thing is, others didn’t. And some even plotted to kill Jesus, which they did.

We all have to choose to whom we pray. And it matters.

God says to us, “Call on me in a day of trouble; I will rescue you, and you will honor me.” (Psalms 50:15 ,CSB)

I hope you will read the details of these events. Click here for the story of Elijah (1 Kings 18) and here for the story of Jesus and Lazarus ( John 11.)

You may wonder if God is still doing amazing things today. I recommend these books: The Case for Miracles by Lee Strobel and Miracles by Eric Metaxas.

The Father and His Sons Part 3

It took a long time for the son to walk back to the family farm. Remember, he had gone to a far country. (read Parts 1 and 2.) The rough road on his bare feet slowed him down. And he was hungry to the point of fainting . But getting home was his only hope of surviving, so he kept going.

He had lots of time to think about what he would say to his father when he got there. He knew his father had no obligation to help him – not after the way he had acted. By rights his father should turn him away, but he knew him to be a kind man, so he prepared this little speech:

“Father, I have sinned against Heaven and you. I am not worthy to be called your son. Will you allow me to work here as your hired servant?”

The son rehearsed his speech over and over on his slow walk home. And while he walked his father was still watching. Every morning his father looked down the road, hoping to see his son. At noon, and again before dark, he looked and prayed his boy would come home.

Then one afternoon the father looked and thought he saw far off a familiar figure on the road. His heart started to beat quickly, but then he thought, “That’s not my son. He is way too thin and he walks with his head down.”

But he kept watching.

“Wait,” he thought, “it looks like my son’s gait. But, no, this fellow is wearing nothing but rags. It’s not him.”

But he kept watching.

And as the figure drew nearer the father’s heart leapt with the joy of recognition.

“It’s my son!” Then he did what no dignified gentleman would do. Pulling up his robe he sprinted down the path to the gate shouting, “You’re home! You’re home!”

The son had barely made it through the gate when the impact of his father’s embrace almost knocked him over. He tried to start his speech, saying, “Father,I have sinned against Heaven and…..”

But his father wasn’t listening. He was kissing him and shouting instructions to the servants.

“Look, my son is home. Run to my closet and bring me my best robe. And bring some shoes with it.”

“And, you, go tell the cook to kill the fatted calf and make a big feast. We are going to celebrate!”

“And, you, go tell the neighbors my son is home and we are feasting. And then go hire that band we like.”

Finally the father took off his ring and put it on the finger of his son, which meant he was restored to the position of his father’s beloved child.

Together they walked back to the house, and the party began.

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Jesus told this story so we can know how God the Father feels about us. Whether you are on the road leaving, on the road heading back or safely home the Father loves you more than you guess, and your welcome party is waiting.

Scripture reference: Luke 15:11-24

The Farmer and His Sons. Part 2

Please read Part 1 if you were not here last week.

And the father kept watching.

Every morning, before he did anything else, he would look down the road for his son. At noon, while out in the fields, he would wipe the sweat from his brow and look down the road. And the last thing he did at night before he closed the front door was look out again and ask God to bring his son home.

But his son was far from home. He had walked until he was in a far country where no one knew him, where no one could carry reports of what he was doing back to his family. There he enjoyed spending his new wealth. He made many new friends and bought them dinner and drinks. He bought nice things for the pretty young women he met. He had plenty of money, so this lasted for quite some time. But finally his money ran out. And when his money was gone, much to his surprise, his friends were, too.

About the same time a famine hit the land. Food became expensive. He sold his fine clothes, gold chains and jeweled rings just to pay for something to eat. In the end he sold his shoes for a small loaf of bread.

He tried begging. When that didn’t work, he took a job feeding pigs. Hungry and alone he sat out in the field watching the pigs gobble down carob pods. He wished he had pods to eat. But no one gave him anything.

What he did have was plenty of time to think.

“What am I doing here?” he thought. “This is dumb! Back home the servants are eating all they want and I am sitting here starving to death.”

It did not take him long to decide he would return home, admit he had been wrong and ask his father to let him work as a hired servant.

So he left the far country and headed back to the farm.

(To be continued)

The son doesn’t know his father has been longing for him to come home, but he does know his father’s character. What do you think there is about his father that motivates the son to go back?

What do you know about the character of God?

If you knew God the Father loves you like this farmer loves his son, would you go to him?

The prophet Jeremiah wrote this:

“For I know what I have planned for you,” says the LORD. “I have plans to prosper you, not to harm you. I have plans to give you a future filled with hope.”

Hope to see you back here next week for the homecoming.

Scripture quoted:Jeremiah 29:11 (NET Bible)