Prodigal

Returning to the Father is done on a road of brokenness. The passage is payed through ego shattering humility. Pride and pretenses must be abandoned for the sake of this love in the distance. There are points when the prodigal must crawl over shards of rock and broken glass all in the aim of making the painful pilgrimmage back home.



O Repentant, repentant
Wounded am I.
The whole cannot be reconciled
The shadow, the false, the true.

My heart, my love is stunted
Exposed am I.
Stripped of my mask and my costume
Simply and ashamedly myself.

O Repentant, repentant
Ashamed am I.
Ubiquitous are the reminders of the past
Uncovered are the graves of sin and memories buried.

My soul, my spirit is raw
Crushed am I.
The layers of falsehood are being shed because
The way is only admitted to those who have left it all behind.

O Repentant, repentant
Distressed am I.
At your door I stand naked with all my defenses cast aside
Awkwardly waiting and hoping that you will, at the very least, heal me.

More than healing he brings,
More than salvation is given.

"Welcome home my child,
find rest and comfort with me here."
You wrap me in new clothes.
Your words and eyes tell me I am finally home.