The Path of Purpose - Part 3 - The Prodigal Son

This is an aside to the story but it is immensely important for what is to follow...
In my last post I talked about the impact of realising that there was a God and He was interested enough in me to talk to me...can I state that again? God was talking to me. Do you not realise the immensity of that?
If you knew me at all especially in my 'away' years then you would be as astounded as me!
Now I have no interest in hashing over those years because there is no profit there but can I say this. If you have a son out there somewhere and you do not know what has happened, you are troubled and perplexed by his behaviour, maybe you are ashamed of him or perhaps you just see better for him than he is then take heart. All is not lost. Hope remains.You see I know my mother prayed. How do I know? Well I know because that's what mothers do and I just know that my Mum was praying. So Mums...keep praying! And...then there is the Father.
So I was astounded that God spoke to me. You should know at this point I should tell you that the statement God made to me that day in April 2000 was not the only thing He said. He said more but maybe I will share that another time.
The importance to me of this event in my life can be illustrated as follows.
In the Bible there is a story told by Jesus Himself. It is commonly called the story of the Prodigal Son. It is found in the book of Luke chapter 15. If you are able I would encourage you to read it for yourself.
It is about a younger son who decides he doesn't want his life as he knows it, in fact he would prefer it if his father would die because he wants his share of his father's estate. Usually you only get that when your father passes but this son wanted it now.
The father was so gracious towards his son and he divides his living with his son. Now if I read between the lines I feel that the father divided more than his property and wealth, he divided, in fact, himself because I am sure his heart was broken by the actions of his son. The son, despite this, takes his share of his father and goes into a far off country.
He then proceeds to blow the lot with parties, women, drink, drugs...the story narrative says 'riotous living'. That was me.
This young man was on a road that so very gradually led down. That was me.
Eventually he found the need to seek employment because the money had run out and all he found was work feeding pigs. Down in the pig sty his plight became so dire that even the food that the pigs ate became attractive as the young man struggled to fill the hole in his being.
Now there is something in this story that astounds me. You see as you read the story it becomes obvious that the father was so good and so loving towards his son because the father was waiting for his son to come home. Read on.
The young man hit the bottom. I hit the bottom. I was in debt. I struggled to go one day without a alcoholic drink. I was sacked from my job. I remember so clearly driving home after being released from my job under unjust circumstances. The route home took me past a wooded area were I on pleasant weekends would walk with my family, it was so beautiful and peaceful filled with the majesty of the trees of an English woodland but today those same trees called me to come and use their strength and height for another purpose. If I had had a rope in my car...
Th father was waiting. The young man decided that he would return home and repent of his wrong and seek to be added to the servant staff of his father's household. His thoughts were that the servants in his father's house have enough to eat and here I am hungry with no way to fill the void in my life. I know that feeling.
So the boy gets up and heads home. The father sees him. The father's heart skips a beat and then the father runs. He runs to the son, he throws his arms around him, he kisses him repeatedly, oh the joy of the father as his son comes home! What love! What desire!
The son begins his planned speech of repentance but his father sweeps this aside and calls for the robe of a son, the ring of a son, the shoes of a son and places them on him. The son had come back believing he was no more worthy to be anything but a slave but the father had never seen him as anything but a son. They had a big party to celebrate the son's return and I am sure the father and the son sat together and discussed together the future and the great plans that the father had for his son.
That day in April 2000 I sat in a church (it wasn't necessary it be a church for God speaks everywhere but for me it needed to be a church for all that was to come) and my Father welcomed me back. Not as a servant but as a son. And we sat and discussed the future together. Fathers don't take on the task of restoring the years that the locusts had eaten for a servant but they do it for a son.
My Father waited all those years and then when the day came He saw me a long way off and He ran to me...he came quickly just like he was rushing to catch a bus! There was no hesitation in him as the Children's Pastor embodied my Father and came rushing to me that day to welcome me home.
What was the essential thing for me? I never knew a God who was a Father. Oh don't get me wrong I knew the theory but the theory had not become truth to me. I lived under the law but the law had been fulfilled and God the Father now viewed me through the lense that is the New Covenant. The old was gone and a new day had come, the Day of Grace, the Year of the Favour of God.
Now I would be remiss if I didn't share this with you the reader. The story goes on to tell of the anger of the older son at his father's treatment and favour towards the younger. There is a lot that could be said about the reaction of the older brother but suffice to say this...culturally it would be the role of the older brother to go, bring back and restore the younger but in this case this did not happen. For me I needed an older brother to come and bring me back.
Jesus is my older brother who came to where I was and brought me back to the Father.
I found that I had a Father in God who loved me. I found a brother in Jesus who travelled a long way to restore me through His cross work. I found that I was part of the family of God, a son, because my Father did not receive me as a servant but as a son, put new clothes on me, a new ring of authority on me and new shoes...a new purpose, a new walk, a new direction...no longer the long, downward road but a new road of satisfaction, of purpose and of glory. I will explain that later.
So back to the story...