When the prodigal son returns, he’s afraid. Very afraid, as the bible tells us. (keep reading, I’m not getting biblical on you) He wasted his entire inheritance, abandoned his family, and screwed up royally. Yet he goes home, faces the truth, and prepares to beg for forgiveness.
Because at some point we all have to go home.
But life doesn’t always follow the story. Or maybe it always does, but it’s the path that becomes entirely different.
We’re not prepared for the hill that lays in wait just before the doorstep. The hill built out of fear, hate, spite, revenge, hurt, and denial. The hill that our home has not built, but the one that the prodigal son has built himself. And we can’t see our loved ones standing in circles around that hill with shovels, and spades, and even explosives, just waiting for the words to be spoken, just waiting to help tear down that hill.
Yet we choose to add to the hill. Always heaping on more and more, making it seem impossible.
Until we despise the idea of going home all together.
But you see, going home is not an option you can choose to ignore. Denying truths only eat at your soul. One way or another you will climb that hill, eventually.
And just know you have a family, waiting to hold your hand…
Coffee and Spellcheck 