Finding Our Way Back to God

1. Admit that I need help.

“We would rather be ruined than changed. We would rather die in our dread than climb the cross of the present and let our illusions die.”

– Richard Rohr

Prodigal by Michael Mark

The son, The one, The prodigal kind

Nothin but frivolity and fun on his mind

Inheritance, In a sense, Sitting, gathering dust

Grieving a tradition stipulating he must

Wait For the date, The old man would croak

But his wait for the estate, Had him borderline broke

Discontent, He’d circumvent, The rules he’d come to resent

Demanding a percent, Askin’ pop to consent

And off he went, content On a sinful dissent

Prodigal, Defined as Recklessly extravagant

But you know how sin goes, It often starts out swell

But given some time, It don't work out so well

So this young man's penchant for egotism

Has him three feet deep inside a world of hedonism

Drinkin’ Chillin’ in a house of ill repute

Already took a shot at every prostitute

His selfish pursuit Ain’t bearin’ no fruit;

Runnin’ out of loot, Life dropping like a rock down the laundry chute

Tending hogs for a living, He's filthy, smelly

No food to feed his own belly; Bereavement and fear filling his chest

Feeding pods to the pigs he couldn’t even digest

No rest For the weary

But as he lay there at the bottom, He was struck with a theory

My pop’s workers Got a better deal than I got here

He realized his next move was pretty clear

After all I did I certainly can't be his kid

But I gotta rid Myself of this mess And all this distress

I'll cross my fingers for a bit of forgiveness

He came slinking down the road back to town, his head hung low

Feeling a world of shame

That he’d disgraced the family name

Anticipating dad casting rightful blame

But he didn’t

There he stood, Waiting hopefully

That cresting over the hill his baby boy he’d see

As he’d been waiting every day Since his precious kid left

Praying silently with a heart bereft

And at the vision of his son, He broke into a run

Screaming to his servants "Prepare a feast

Take the fatted calf and straight up slaughter that beast!”

The boy's "I'm sorrys" fell on deaf ears

As dad's kisses pierced their way through his cascading tears

Robes draped his shoulders, On his finger, a ring, Sandals on his feet

The treatment of a king

No punishment

No judgment

2. Turn to God for help.

“God, if you are real, make yourself real to me. Awaken in me the

willingness to turn toward you for help.”

Luke 15:20 (NLT) “So he returned home to his father. And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him.”

3. God runs toward us.