My husband left much like the prodigal son. There was a woman, she made it easier to leave but wasn’t the reason. He was searching for a lifestyle. He didn’t want the Father to be his Father anymore. He didn’t want what the Father had for him. To him it wasn’t freedom it was a burden. So he left, searching for his freedom. He wanted the bars, the clubs, the friends. Fancy cars and clothes. Football games, world series games, bike rallies, and the list goes on and on. A never-ending search for freedom that he already had in Christ. Searching to fulfill his life when only Jesus can do that.
In the beginning, I saw myself as the Father waiting with open arms for him to come home. And then I realized I am not the Father. Only the Father is the Father.
I’ve been more like the brother through a lot of my journey. Doing the ” right ” thing, being the “good” girl but so ungrateful for all the Father had done for me. Lots of muttering and complaining. Stomping my feet as I set out to do the Father’s work. Thinking my husband was living it up but here I was stuck. Stuck in the pain, stuck being the stable parent, stuck paying the bills. Stuck, stuck, stuck. That’s all I could think. I didn’t see any blessings, I didn’t notice that everything the Father had was mine. I was too angry, too hurt and too self-absorbed to notice how much the Father loved me. The blessings and favor He had poured out on me.
As I’ve grown on my journey, I’ve noticed I’ve become more like the servants. I no longer serve myself and my feelings, I no longer do the Father’s work to gain my husband’s attention. I serve my Father now. Just as those servants did. I do His bidding, I listen to His voice. And I’m preparing for the day He says to me its time to get the fattened calf. When that day comes I don’t want to miss the celebration because I’m still stuck in all the bad that has happened. I don’t want to miss the Father hug His son and welcome him home. I want to dance and laugh, I want to be a part of the homecoming.
God is not unjust; He will not forget your work and the love you have shown Him as you have helped His people and continue to help them. Hebrews 6:10
We cannot be the Father.
He waits, not us, we should be serving and preparing. We can decide to be the brother and miss out on all the Father has for us or we can decide to be the servant. Serving the Father and watching Him, not our spouse, for the cue to start the celebration.
Its a choice and some days I find myself acting like the brother, not the servant, and some days I have to check myself that I don’t become so high and mighty that I think I’m the Father.
Who will you be? The brother, consumed with self-righteousness missing out on the miracle, or the servant, preparing to take part in a miracle? I pray we all do a heart check.
22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
Luke 15:22-32
Praying for you,
Brandi Roark