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A father is sitting in his chair reading the paper and watching the news at the same time when he hears the sound of a sick motor pull up on the street.  He turns to look out the window just in time to hear it roar off leaving a cloud of blue smoke.  He notices a forlorn young woman standing on the curb holding a baby in one arm and the hand of another. Her orange and green hair, tattoos and body piercings testify of a rough life. He noted that all three were in need of new clothes and a bar of soap.  He turns back to his paper, but begins to wonder.  He looks out again and she is still there, only this time she is looking his way. She looks at him, tears colored with makeup drip from her chin. Could it be? He wonders. He gets up and opens the door. He calls his wife and they run down the walkway.  It’s true, their prodigal has come home!

After hugging, they welcome her inside. They get out some left overs and make some sandwiches.  At first, things are a bit awkward and tense until she realizes that her parents aren’t criticizing and condemning her. They hold the kids and talk with them.  Eventually, she asks if she can come home. She says she knows that she doesn’t deserve it and will move on if they want her to do so. She also knows there are rules in their home and promises to observe them. She also asks if they would be embarrassed if she went to church with them because she wanted to return to God, too. Of course, she was welcome.

She had a heart of repentance and a desire of reconciliation. She had come to the place of admitting she was wrong and wanted to do right.  The years of rebellion had left their scars, but her parents assured her that God could use those days to help others.  They were all so happy.

“And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.” Luke 15:20-21.

© copyright Kevin T Boekhoff

 

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