The Prodigal Mother by John Monday

Dear Child,

We’ve never stopped thinking of you. Please come home.

I’ve been told a thousand stories since you left.  Someone said you’ve wasted the family money on drugs and prostitutes. Another told me you’ve made millions on Wall Street.  Your cousin said you were a thief.  We love you. Please come home.

A friend said that, although you left alone, you now have a baby.  We love you, and we’ll love and celebrate your baby. Please come home.

I know you’re concerned about the scars you’ve developed since you left, but I’ve got them too.  I’ve just learned how to hide them.  When you come home, I’ll show you mine, and you’ll know that we’re no different. Please come home.

You’ve been told that we won’t like your friends, but don’t you remember the song we sang when you were little? “...all are precious in his sight...”  We don’t always live that simple truth well, but we’ll figure it out. Your friends are welcome.  Please come home.

Not everyone will be kind when you return. Despite the fact that we love your brother and try to display lives of mercy, forgiveness, and grace, he’s bitter and judgmental.  He doesn’t understand that, while he’s never left our home, he’s also never shared our heart.  Your father continues to love and pursue him with grace.  I see little difference, but your father believes he’ll change. Your brother needs you, too. Please come home.

The day you left your father adjusted his seat to be able to watch the highway over morning coffee and at the evening meal. Everyday he looks down the road hoping today will be the day. He misses you so much. Please come home.

I asked him why He doesn't send someone and make you come home? He said he doesn't want another child bound by obligation. He loves you too much to take your freedom. He said he’d wait for you to choose home; his patience astounds me.  Please come home.

Yesterday at the grocery He was smiling over the biggest roast I’ve ever seen; I bet it could feed 100!  When I asked him for his thoughts, his eyes turned glassy and he said, “one day.”  I think I know what he meant.  Please come home.

Whether you come back today or stay away awhile longer, know that we will never forget you and never stop loving you. Your father will continue to watch and wait, and there is a celebration, beyond your imagination prepared... 

...Please come home.

Your Prodigal Mother,

The Church