Month: February 2023

I never related very well to the parable of the prodigal. I heard people amazed that the father ran to meet the prodigal and that the prodigal was unworthy. Those things I got, but… so? My own parents were distant growing up in some ways. I’m not sure they would have run, but they’d have welcomed me, even if through slightly gritted teeth.

But… I’ve recently become acquainted with a couple who fosters kids. They’ve had their current fosters since before the pandemic, and their fosters will be adopted soon. And the man has been crying all week. Every time someone asks how he is, every time someone asks about the kids, he chokes up. They aren’t his kids. He’s know they were only there temporarily. That they’re being adopted is great for the kids, and he has said so, but still, this has been a really hard transition for him.

I’ve watched him with those kids. I’ve watched him live in the moment with them, and watched him choke up when the kids won’t see. It’s hard for him to see them go, hard knowing they will be moving away. There’ll be an emptiness in this couple’s lives when those kids are gone, and their own grief is as real as their love for the kids.

If he were the father in that parable I would understand why he was running – not just to welcome him back, but because he missed them and he loves them, no matter what they do, no matter where they are. If this man were the father, and he saw one of his fosters – not even his own kids – coming toward him, he’d run, and no one who knows him would be surprised at that. Not at all. No matter what they’d done, no matter where they were, he’d run to them if they ever needed him, and he wouldn’t ever consider them “unworthy” (like I was taught from the story of the prodigal). He wouldn’t, and neither did the father in the story. They’d be the first to remind them of their worth, not because of what they’d done or not done, but simply because they are.

******** Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.

Two months ago I started attending a church… after around 5-6 years of swearing I was done, and after one infamously sarcastic Google search for what I thought was the impossible… a church that accepted even doubters and unbelievers.

For two months I’ve watched people in this church – leaders and laity – being authentic, accepting and loving. They’ve invited me to sit with them and welcomed me to their classes, groups, and discussions. They’ve never once pressured me for information about myself or pushed for any commitment from me. They’ve listened, they’ve shared, and they’ve loved.

When I first started going, I’d physically shake and my blood pressure would go hypertensive, which is very unusual for me. But I was actually IN a church building, and that was a terrifyingly dangerous place in my mind. And this was a different kind of church than I was used to (thank goodness!), and the unfamiliarity was also scary. But there was something incredible happening and I knew it, and I knew that this church was part of it.

I asked God at the time to please provide answers to some of my many questions without me having to ask. That prayer has been answered many times over, and is still being answered in amazing ways but I’m not afraid to ask questions now. This is a safe place to wonder, to question, to ask. Even to doubt or differ.

The last two months have brought healing to 22 years of deep wounds, and a restoration I didn’t dare dream of.

I’m so incredibly happy that I’m joining this church tomorrow. No, membership there changes nothing. There’s no extra perk to joining, unless you count getting a name tag, and no one will expect anything more or less of me. Nothing changes because they will continue to do just what they’ve already done and be what they’ve already been. But it means a lot to me, and it’s my opportunity to say, “me, too.”

******** Shop at our Amazon store! As an Amazon Influencer, this website earns from qualifying purchases.

Love Lessons

Finding home