#11 – or, if you lay down with the pigs…

I admit it – I’m human. Sometimes, I get mad about stuff I should rejoice about. Sometimes I get wrapped up IN ‘life’ and forget to sit down and be thankful FOR my life. Sometimes I feel like I’ve squandered days…months – even entire years (can anyone else believe that it’s November already?!).

We squander a lot don’t we? Take stuff for granted on a daily basis. It’s ok to admit it – we all do it. A conversation I had with my friend, Kricket, not too long ago planted the seed for this particular entry. I’ve thought a lot about how I wanted to approach it. I couldn’t decide what made the best sense for me to get my thoughts in order and translate everything I’m thinking into some cognitively sound statements. And, I think the best way I’m going to do that is to approach this in two posts…more on the 2^nd one later…you’ll understand by mid-November.

It all started with a conversation about someone we know who has had the tendency to squander things in their life. I certainly won’t get into details of a very private conversation – but, by the end of the conversation, Kricket and I found ourselves discussing the parable of the prodigal son. I think a lot of us think of the father with his arms open wide welcoming his son as he walked up from afar – even after he’d squandered all of his inheritance.

…But what I think we fail to consider is the fact that his lost son had indeed wasted his ENTIRE inheritance – and as a result, he’d been working for a farmer – feeding pigs. I mean, let’s just stop right there and discuss that – have you been on a farm or to a petting zoo before? Pigs stink. Really. Bad. Can you imagine the smell that must have been wafting off of him? Could his father smell him before the son actually got close enough for his dad to throw his arms around him? My guess is yes. And yet – the father opened his arms wide and rejoiced. He sent for his best robes and the fatted calf – and for a celebration of his son’s return. Much to the chagrin of his other son.

And speaking of the son who’d stayed and worked… What did he feel? Jealousy? Anger? Disbelief? Of course. That’s only human, right? I can’t say that I’m so enlightened and spiritually advanced that I wouldn’t react the exact same way. To be the one who’d worked the land and done the right thing and feel un-rewarded for that? Absolutely I’d react that way.

I marvel at the fact that I am a sister of Jesus Christ – we are joint heirs of the Kingdom. And that even though I have played the part of the prodigal daughter more times than I want to count, much less admit, in my life – Jesus is never jealous of me – His sister. Wow! I am astounded that even though His Father’s inheritance is so much greater than anything you or I could ever dream up – he is never mad because I lose my way and come back smelling like the pigs.

Man, isn’t God good? I’m so thankful for a God who doesn’t mind that sometimes I smell like the pigs. And He welcomes me home with open arms – puts His finest robes on my shoulders and prepares a feast for me – and in my mind, it’s filled with lots of pasta. And bread. And chocolate. (But I’m confident none of it has any calories).

What is on the table by the fatted calf in honor and celebration of your return? It's not too late, by the way. He's ready - arms wide and waiting for you. And he can smell you - but I promise He'll still hug you tight and rejoice your homecoming.