For the Prodigal

To my Prodigal,

I don’t think you realize how much brighter and happier you make my life and the lives of other people around you. I’m not sure you understand how valuable you are. You have so much to offer the world. Your value as a person doesn’t ultimately depend on what you do or don’t do, though. Our good and evil choices and actions do not determine our value in God’s Kingdom. You, like everyone else, are valuable because you exist. And your existence is on purpose. There are not mistakes or accidents in God’s creation. Listen closely – you are not an accident or mistake. You’re a miracle, a masterpiece.

“So God created human beings in His own image. In the image of God He created them; male and female He created them.” (Genesis 1:27)

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.” (Ephesians 2:10)

On the hardest and darkest days – when I despair that the injustice in this world will crush the miracle that is you – or when it hurts the deepest for me to think about where you are vs. where I know you could be if circumstances were different – what helps me keep going forward is my trust in God’s design (He only does good work), His timing (He never moves too soon or too late), and His power (He is a God who literally resurrects dead people, so he can bring life to any situation).

“Jesus told her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying’…Then Jesus shouted, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ And the dead man came out…” (John 11:25, 43-44)

If I was God, I would want to use all of my power to shield you from every mistake and every bit of pain – but I am not God and I can’t see the larger story of your life or the lives of those around you like God can. I also don’t have the power to take regret or wounds and transform them into sources of life like God does.

“Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time He said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.” (2 Corinthians 12:8-9) 

 “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.” (Romans 8:28)

I am so thankful I got to spend some extra time with you over the past few years and that somewhere along the way we became like family. I don’t have any biological kids, so I don’t 100% know what it feels like to be a parent, but I blame you for awakening what I can only explain as parent-love in me. The kind of weird love that likes to watch kids sleep (in a not-creepy way, I swear); a love that sometimes overwhelms me with competing urges to simultaneously protect/defend/strangle teenagers, including you; a love that makes me want to buy a minivan so I can run a more effective after-school soccer mom taxi service. Thanks for being willing to let me into your world. You didn’t have to let me be a part of your life. But I am honored you did.

A lesson I think your life has made you an expert in – is that loving someone with a family kind of love means being willing to hurt whenever that person hurts. Family means laughing and celebrating the good times together. But family also means carrying the pain of all the members. I’ve seen you hurt for your family. I’ve seen you grapple with the pressure of things outside of your control that are threatening to destroy your loved ones. 

I’ve watched the pain of family-love, the never-ending grappling, come close to breaking you – causing explosions of anger and seemingly unexplainable actions. While some people might ask why you would do this or be involved in that, I have always known the why is rooted in the ever-increasing burden of pain you carry and the resulting dwindling of hope. And I know the pain is heavy because the love you have for your family and the desire you have to make their lives better is deep. Pain and anger are intertwined. I know you’re angry that you can’t seem to change how things are turning out or help in all the ways you want to be able to. Trust me, I know that anger. 

I think the pain is like a pot of water on the stove that is rising to a boil – for a while, it’s just a few ripples and bubbles in the water, but eventually the bubbles rise to the surface and pop, and if you let it keep going, the water eventually spills over. And if you leave it on even longer, it evaporates and the pot burns. There’s a fire hazard. Anger. If you want to settle a pot of boiling water, the solution is easy – you take it off the heat. One of the lessons my work has taught me is that I usually can’t prevent or turn off or somehow repel the heat in the lives of the people around me. I feel like it’s my responsibility to shield you, and I can’t. I do have a choice, though. I can be a bystander and move away from the heat, watching from a safe distance. Or I can hold ground, remain present, choose to be with you in the fire. That’s family-love. It’s what Jesus did and what ultimately cost Him His life on earth.

“You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though He was God, He did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, He gave up his divine privileges; He took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When He appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)

Part of my parent-love for you is that no amount of pain could make me wish you were not a part of my life. Given the chance to be a part of your life or not – even if I knew up front how much it might hurt – I would choose you every time. Again, and again, and again. 

But the pain feels unbearable at times. Sometimes it hurts so bad that I have to catch my breath because it’s hard to breathe. My chest hurts right under the bone in the middle, pain that starts in my heart and radiates out, making my whole body feel achy, tired and heavy. My stomach gets upset. Food doesn’t taste good. I feel like I want to throw up. Other times it hurts so bad that I feel like I have gone emotionally numb, like I can’t care about anything or anyone else because my ability to care has been completely exhausted. Like I poured all of myself out and there’s nothing left. Like all the water evaporated and I’m in between the pot being empty and the fire starting, the explosion happening. Jesus felt this kind of pain, too.

“He prayed more fervently, and he was in such agony of spirit that His sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood.” (Luke 22:44)

So, what is the answer to all of this pain? That’s a major question I’ve had for God recently. My pain and the pain I see others around me – like you – carrying. I can last for a little while, strategize how to reduce the burden, try to bring others into the fire to help bear the weight. But eventually I – we – will collapse. I’m wondering if I can endure a life spent choosing to stand in the fire. 

God answered. He reminded me that in the world when we “surrender” it leads to losing the battle. But in God’s Kingdom, He asks us to surrender so that He can be the King of our lives. Release control. It’s a paradox at the foundation of faith. That kind of surrender actually leads to freedom. Because when God is King, I can trust Him to take care of me – especially in the fire – and I can trust Him to take care of the people I love, like you. I am free from carrying the crushing weight of all the things I can’t fix or change. God promises to carry the heavy things. 

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

I got bad news today. I feel like I’m losing you to all the things I can’t control. The pain rose again in a fierce kind of way. My reflex is to fight it alone until I collapse in despair. Until hope disappears. But I know the answer is to stay with you, reach out to other people who will stand with us, and surrender to God’s power, trusting His Sovereignty over the darkest situation. I honestly cannot see the hope at this point, but it is there.

“A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.” (Ecclesiastes 4:12)

Since He promises to carry it for me, I need to release it to Him. I need to let Him do His work while I keep moving forward on the path He has set me on. In His Word, He promises to complete His good work. 

“And I am certain that God, who began the good word within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” (Philippians 1:6)

He promises perseverance, character, hope, and salvation.

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment.” (Romans 5:3-5)

God doesn’t send His people into the fire without going in Himself. I can’t turn off the heat or shield anyone from it, but He can.

“Nebuchadnezzar was so furious with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego that his face became distorted with rage. He commanded that the furnace be heated seven times hotter than usual. Then he ordered some of the strongest men of his army to bind [them] and throw them into the blazing furnace… ‘Look!” Nebuchadnezzar shouted. ‘I see four men, unbound, walking around in the fire unharmed! And the fourth looks like a god!’…[They] stepped out of the fire [and people] saw that the fire had not touched them.” (Daniel 3:19-20, 25, 27)

The other thing God told me recently is that I need to trust Him with my treasure. If He is King of my life, then I have to trust Him with all parts of my life. I need to quit acting like I love you more than He loves you or like you belong to me more than you belong to Him. When I asked God if it was possible to endure this pain, God asked me, “Do you trust Me with your treasure?” 

“Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.” (Matthew 6:21)

God asked me to trust Him with the things that hurt me the most, and to trust Him with the things I love the most. I am still working on that, and I need to be reminded to surrender every single day. But it is the only way I can continue not just to live, but to actually thrive, even when I’m in the fire. It is the only way I can continue to exist as light in the middle of a lot of darkness. It’s the only way I can do the things God is asking me to do even when it causes pain. It is ironic – but the only way I can refuse to quit and have the strength to carry on is actually to surrender. 

So, if you notice, I started this letter by writing, “To my Prodigal.” I hope that helps you remember the story of the Prodigal Son. It’s one of my favorites in the Bible. In the story, the son takes everything he can from his father and runs away and wastes it all. That must have caused unbearable pain for the father. Family-love kind of pain. There is no evidence of the father collapsing in despair in the story. But there is evidence of hope. When the son appears at the end of the road, you can tell the father has been expecting it. He must check the road consistently because he knows deep down his son will come home. He is overjoyed. He runs to meet his son and throws a huge party to welcome him home. 

“We must celebrate with a feast, for this son of mine was dead and has now returned to life. He was lost, but now he is found.” (Luke 15:23-24)

Dearest, I love you like that. It’s a big love that is willing to wait in the heat for you to come home and willing to trust God to do His work in your life while you are away. Willing to surrender the burden each day and to rely on God’s power to cause fruits of the Spirit, and not despair or anger, to spill from my wounds.

“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

When you make the choice to come home, I’ll be here, waiting to throw a party and celebrate life.

With love,

Miss Danielle