Prodigal Father

Suddenly it hit him
Finally he knew
Everything he'd known before 
Had been a farce
All he'd invested
All he'd given
Believing it to be gratefully received and valued
     was gone

He had trusted the look in the eyes
Believing it to be
     Honour
     Respect
     Love
All a farce
All gone
Nothing but wind
Nothing but self-deception

And the pain that came
The anger
The hurt
How could he?
Why?

I gave you everything
I poured from my heart
Everything
     My heart
     My time
     My encouragement, 
     Years of wisdom
     I worked hard to help you learn
     In a way that you, especially you, would understand
And you ...
     You looked at me and smiled
     You nodded, urging me on
     You made me think you were listening, learning
     I was encouraged by the hope that it was making a difference
     That you were growing, and being helped
But you ...
Counted it as nothing
Threw it away
Trampled it in the ground
Poured it out while laughing in my face

What were you thinking while you looked at me and listened
Certainly not taking it in
     Now I know
I've been had
I've been taken

How do I...
How can I...
Get over the pain?
Everything I've worked for
All I've been investing in
Found to be a waste
How could I have ever been so misled
How can I ever trust again?
     or give again?

And yet he did
The hope was greater than the hurt
The love for his son
Could not be repressed
What he really wanted most of all
Was for him to come home
To turn
     And then come home
No matter the cost
No matter the foolishness
No matter the risk

Yes, son could take it all and waste it all again
But the father's love
Was just too extravagant to be able to hold back
Foolish it was
A waste

Or...
Just generous, extravagant love
That wipes away the past
Gives a fresh new start
and hope for new beginnings

The Father...
Doesn't seem to count the cost
Or...
Maybe it just doesn't matter
Any price is worth it
In the end
It will all be spent anyways
Why not spend it all on one to be loved
One who can be made new

Forays of the Prodigal

Did he ever run away again?

After going so far

Living so low

Repenting so completely

Knowing such grace…

Did he ever leave again?

He never imagined he would

How could he want to?

That night at the banquet

He was a truly changed man

This mercy, this grace

He could only be thankful

But not too long after

He felt it again

Those same frustrations

Same temptations

He just had to leave

Oh, the forays were different now

Not as long

Not as far

Sometimes the distance was only emotional, inside

And the time gone

Each time became shorter

Sooner, he “came to his senses”

But one thing never changed

Always was his Father waiting there

Always he came running

Always were the arms wide open

Always was there complete forgiveness and grace

For he had always been

The beloved son

He had always been heir

Meant to live out the family name

It did take time though

To grow into the reality

Standing Strong

There are two kinds of standing
Both look so strong, until...

One stands after the crash, after the fall
after all has been revealed
all has been confessed.

This one stands after facing the truth of self, sin, and grace
Owning the self
Owning the sin
Receiving the grace

This one is a crawl through the mud
Bloodied and bruised this one comes
Desperate, needy, broken, humbled

This one stands in the Light where all is revealed
Where heads hang in shame
But this one receives a hand that reaches out
This one knows the One who lifts heads

And when this one stands again
He stands so strong, He stands so tall
Others might come...accusing
"I know what you did"
He smiles, sad, but can say, "I know" "Yes, I did"
And still stands strong

The other's standing looks strong
But is really so fragile
Based on pretense, hiding, a false image for others
A false image of self

It is a weary standing 
Much effort made to make sure know one else knows
Much effort to keep self from not thinking, 
     not remembering, 
          not admitting

It is a fearful standing
For the moment someone else knows
We must deny
If they know, we are not safe
For we have no prodigal's God
We have no God of repentence, confession, grace
We reject the mud, the humility, the shame
We refuse to to stare in the face and say, 
"Yes, this is me."  "Yes, this is what I've done"
We reject the brokenness, so receive no healing

We think we are strong

so we stand
    tall
        strong
             but oh so fragile

There are two kinds of standing
But only one is strong

Ode to a friend, still trying to get out of the mud, still learning to stand in the grace, but oh so courageous in the confession.  In the end, you WILL stand strong my friend.  And nothing will shake you.