I woke up at 2am and wrote this.
You look ridiculous
With your patch-work picture of pretense printed all over your personality
Painting over the cracks of the walls of your heart and your own sanity in case you pour out some honesty that gets you ostracized
When you compromise in a counter-cultural surprise
But you put your courage in lies
Deceiving so you despise
Receiving the truth disguised
As bitter pills you cannot swallow
And wallow in self-justification
What new excuse are making?
What foolish route are you taking
To try to get your pig’s food freedom so far away from Papa’s house?
You’ve always got a new reason why your mustard seed was swallowed by doubt
That hungry bird you let build a nest in your head should be dead but instead you just feed it your faith
If you don’t take those thoughts captive and trap them in a cage to starve then they’ll eat your bread, they’ll eat your wheat, they’ll eat your crop when it’s still a seed
Scattered on the rocky path of your hardened heart but you know best right?
Give me my inheritance and my life will be just right?
Well I hope I’m not your elder brother.
I hope my empty seat at your party is because I’m on the dancefloor or because I’m in the kitchen.
Either way, come home today.
Even if you’re still a long way off.
Dad is waiting outside.
He has been for years.
He doesn’t sleep.
He doesn’t eat.
He just watches the horizon like that maternity ward, like that delivery room
He hears the screams as the contractions of consequences squeeze you.
He won’t stop them because they’re bringing you out from what you’ve always known
To breathe fresh air all on your own but in His arms
Spirit to spirit, skin to skin.
His love is not reckless, it’s restless ’cause He doesn’t rest.
He rested once before He began to chase you around before you were lost before you were found before it looked like you were surrounded
He founded His love for you upon His own eternity, unending
He grounded you in it, cutting you like an umbilical chord
Away from the ways of the world
But now you wana be a withering branch modelling your sown together fig leaves
He breathes life but you’re holding your breath
And you’re modelling death
Tryna look like the rest
But you’re selling your best
The price is nothing less
Than the peace of your own soul
The power of self-control
The joy of being made whole
Knowing your personal purpose and role
You look ridiculous
Dressing yourself up in Dad’s clothes
Calling the shots from His shoes like a bartender lining them up
He’s fighting for you
The one that walked away
He’s running to you
When you see Him in the distance and it seems a long way
Don’t let pride get in His way
The doors are called repentance and faith
Faith in the One who forgives as you turn the other way and walk to His freedom with a ring and a robe
And those sandals on your feet that show us all you’re home.
Come home. We miss you.