The Prodigal Child

My bags were packed. I was ready
To begin my journey called life.
I had spread my wings, and made demands
With no thought to whom I caused strife.

I petitioned for what was my birthright.
I felt this to be well deserved.
Though I'd never worked for my comforts,
My father had funds reserved.

In pursuit of my dreams I squandered
My portion of secular wealth.
I spent everything, finding out that
All I had left was my health.

No place to go, I was homeless.
I'd sunken lower than most any man,
Burning many bridges with conceit
To further my selfish plan.

I reached the apex of dishonor.
I found myself weary to roam.
I sought from my father permission
To return to my childhood home.

I was worthless, lost and dejected.
I'd done more than scores of men should.
But He took me back and forgave me;
Welcomed me as only He could.

He ordered a feast in my honor,
And replaced all my filthy clothes
With garments befitting my place there.
At His side He asked I repose.

How many of us have made this journey?
How many have drifted away
From the assurance of our Father's house?
From God, we've chosen to stray.

With virtue absent, we've wandered;
Drifting along; covered with sin.
Knowing sometimes we are not living
With Christ as our light from within.

He is waiting for our return to
Our eternal heavenly home.
This prodigal child will be welcomed
No more from my Father to roam.


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