Homecoming

READ

Have you ever stood at the front door, waiting for the arrival of a loved one? We mamas do this all the time. We hear our child is headed home, and we take our place at the door and wait — looking into the distance, trying to see as far down the street as possible, searching for that familiar car, anticipating the moment when we will have our loved one not at a distance, but in our arms. When you love someone deeply, their homecoming becomes a sacred occasion.

This is the posture of the patient father that Jesus speaks of in today's parable. He is surveying the distance, waiting for the return of his beloved son. In fact, he spots him "while he is still a long way off." He has not forgotten about him or turned his back in anger. I imagine he spent many days looking toward that road in hopeful, heartfelt expectation — Maybe today is the day.

Let's look at Luke 15:20–24 to see the father's full response to his son's homecoming:

So he got up and went to his father. "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. The son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate."

REFLECT

What a response. The father is compassionate. He is so eager for reunion that he runs. He is tender as he throws his arms around his son and kisses him. And yet, notably, he doesn't say a word directly to the boy. This is one of those moments too big for words — or perhaps words simply aren't necessary. The lost son has returned, and the father's actions say everything.

As we read on, the father's generosity becomes almost breathtaking. The son receives the best robe, a ring for his finger, and sandals for his feet. His father calls for a feast. And on top of all of that, a party! Mark this moment. Stop everything — and celebrate.

As beautiful as all of this is, I'm equally struck by what the father does not do. There is a quiet piece of wisdom tucked into these verses. He doesn't rush past the moment. He doesn't say, "I told you so." He shows no reluctance to forgive. In fact, it's clear he had already fully forgiven his son — even before the boy took a single step toward home.

It's done. He is forgiven and free. He can lean into the arms of his father and receive mercy and grace without reservation. And since this is a picture of our heavenly Father's character, the same is true for you and me.

Sitting with this truth makes me want to be more compassionate — to pause and genuinely celebrate every time someone returns to faith in Christ. It deepens my gratitude for every Baptism Night at church, when personal stories of returning are shared. And it makes me want to celebrate my own wobbly path back to the arms of my Father — all the moments when I've messed up, chosen wrongly, and still found my way home.

We are His children, and He is our God — always standing at the door, eagerly waiting for our return. He is ready to meet us in the full embrace of His love and forgiveness. It's simply who He is. And the best part? He then calls for a feast and a party. We are not only restored — we are celebrated.

RESPOND

Take a moment to consider what God might be leading you to do in light of what you've read.

• When was the last time you celebrated someone else's return to Christ? When was the last time you celebrated your own freedom in Christ?

• What can you do to mark a moment of "returning"? A shared meal with friends? A gathering where broken relationships are restored?

• Who can you show compassion toward today? Knowing you have been forgiven, where can you extend grace and forgiveness to someone else?

REST

Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:

Loving Father, thank You that when I return to You, You are so faithful to lovingly receive me and restore me. You welcome me back with compassion, mercy, and grace — forgiving me even before I take my first step back toward You. It's who You are. You are eager for my return. May I learn to celebrate not a perfect walk, but one that always leads back to You. Amen.

Port City writer Holly Campbell wrote today's devotional.