The Prodigal, me


It’s 4:30am, I went to bed 5 hours ago and sleep refused to come.  After hours of watching the clock I finally decided maybe the answer was to give time to God.  Tonight is the beginning of something awesome.  The men at our church who have recently begun a course that will end in a deeper more meaningful relationship with Him have been invited to encounter God this weekend.  I look forward to these weekends so greatly.

I had my own encounter weekend nearly 5 years ago.  I enjoyed it so much that I asked my Pastor to allow me to be a part of each one hence forth, and he obliged.  I have lead worship at everyone since, and this year I get a special opportunity, I get to teach one of the greatest stories ever told.  “The Prodigal Son”.

Arguably the most famous story ever shared by the greatest story teller ever to live.  Jesus gives an account of a man with two sons.  The father is a shrewd businessman, saving and investing as to obey the words in proverbs telling us to store up an inheritance for our children and our grandchildren.

You’ve all heard the story, if you care to reread it, it is found in Luke 15.  By all accounts, this man was a great father.  He was extraordinary, or else Jesus would never have taken the time to tell his tale.

Sometimes in life, parents raise their children to live a life of folly.  Often, mothers and fathers teach their kids a lifestyle that ends in sin and death; whether it be bad role-modeling or neglect.  But, many times great parents can still yield unruly children.  This is the case in Luke 15.  We are given no information that is indicative of just reason for the son hating his father so.  The father is portrayed as an example of how we should act and he is representative of God.  Although this was a Godly man, good at business, loving to his children, still his son chooses to walk away.

We watch the story unfurl and I could only wish we had more time with it.  I anticipate the father’s reaction having been prayerful.  We know that the father waited by the road daily anxiously awaiting his son’s return… but what about the hours spent in prayer for him?  Clearly, it was God’s hand in the homecoming.

If you find yourself today faced with a similar situation, pray, pray, pray.  If your children are lost – expect them to be found.  If you are one of the lost; know that God is waiting patiently for you to come home… and guess what the story says happens next?

The father forsakes dignity.  He runs down the road, arms outstretched and grabs his son up in a big hug and the greek says he rained kisses upon him.  That’s our Dad.  That’s our God.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Jay says:

    I only wish I could be there to hear you teach on this subject. I pray that the message God has given you is planted deep in the hearts of those there, and that it is delivered in the most excellent fashion that you strive for. Love you brother!

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