Today I just had to take a moment and thank God for bringing my Prodigal son home. There he was, sharing the Bible story of the Prodigal Son in a dramatic sermon. As he talked, I looked over at my husband. There were tears in his eyes. I knew he was remembering the hours we paced the floor, praying that our son would come back safe; believing that this journey he was on would soon bring him back home. We prayed that the wounds sin left would be treatable and leave minimal scarring. Yes, we prayed and we believed and we cried and we paced. Today, I'm reminded of the words he said that gave me hope. "It's time for me to get back in church." I will cherish those moments as we sat across from him in a small Mexican restaurant. Tears streaming down our cheeks, he began a journey back home.
Today he stood on the platform of our church with great passion touched the heart of those who had wondered away from God's house. His portrayal of The Prodigal Son was like none I've ever seen. And I cried...touched and thankful!
Today he stood on the platform of our church with great passion touched the heart of those who had wondered away from God's house. His portrayal of The Prodigal Son was like none I've ever seen. And I cried...touched and thankful!
3 comments:
Praise be to God for His eternal mercies! Rebecca Gunter Torres
Encouraging, and thank you for sharing. God is good.
I carried a tiny polished stone in my handbag and prayed for your prodigal each time I touched it. Now I have placed the perfected stone outside in a sprinkling of natural rocks where it, like your son, shines brighter than the others.
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