A Man Had Two Daughters

Many of us are familiar with the story of the Prodigal Son as told in Luke 15: 11-32. 

A man had two sons. His youngest son decides he wants to go off on his own and see the world. He asks his father for his share of his inheritance. His father gives it to him and off he goes, parties hard and squanders everything. Eventually the land he is in suffers a famine and he is left starving and is left to feed pigs. He's so hungry he wants to eat their slop. He comes to his senses and knows that his father has servants who eat 3 square meals a day. He decides to go back to his father to declare that he had sinned again God and him, beg his forgiveness and to ask, not to be his son again, but to simply get a job as a servant. Of course the father sees him and lays out a magnificent party for him, ordering the fatted calf to be killed in his honor. 

The oldest son finds out and refuses to attend the party. He confronts his dad saying "I have been here working day in and day out. I've done everything you've ever asked of me and I don't get so much as a goat. And this fool blows all of his cash and you throw him this celebration? Nah!"

The father tells him that everything he has belongs to him but his brother was once dead and now is alive. That is reason to celebrate!

And so?

Well upon hearing this story, as told by Andy Stanley, I realized that I have been both of these brothers within the last few years. And I think many of us have.

Rewind back to 2009-2010 when I was fighting hard for my marriage. God gave me a word and things to do and ways to behave. I did everything God asked me to do. I prayed, I praised, I worshipped, I trusted, I believed and I waited. And waited. And waited. To no avail. The restoration I was told was coming didn't come. In fact, situations arose that made restoration seemed completely impossible. 

And I got pissed. I confronted God and reminded Him that I had done everything he asked me to do. I was there, daily, on my knees and in worship. I was walking in blind faith, believing and trusting. I did what I was supposed to do. "How could you not give me what I was asking for. How could I believe in You anymore when I felt that You had lied to me. Betrayed me. Set me up for a fall. Not even a goat? Nah!"

So what did I do? I become the Prodigal One. I literally sold nearly everything I had a left for a faraway place. Well DC, but you get my meaning. I left behind all of the pain and sorrow and sadness and memories of the previous years. Or so I thought. But, like anyone who runs away and doesn't face up to the truth, a lot of reality hit me in the face. 

The decisions I made caused a lot of financial problems and I just wasn't happy there. Not as happy as I could be or should be. I missed my family and friends. I squandered everything and though I never got to the point where I was starving and had to feed pigs, I was spiritually starved and anxious for the love and comfort of those who knew and loved me. 

After a long tearful talk with my daughter, I called my mom and told her I wanted to come home. While there was no fatted calf killed on my behalf, my family and friends were, and still are, celebrating my return. 

Things financially are still a mess, but God is faithful. I have been without a job for 3 months. There is still a roof over my head, the lights are still on, I'm not hungry, the water is still running and I am making it. There is no explanation for it but that God Himself is glad that I'm home. He has proclaimed that I was once dead and now I am alive. Maybe the fatted calf is in Heaven, along with that grand celebration. 

He is working it out. This I know.

As for that restoration. I know he's working that out too. I just have to wait. And trust. And believe. 

If He said it, then it is.