Friday 13 January 2012

"The Prodigal Dad"

"I'm going Home"... echoed in the ears of a herd of pigs one day many years ago when a young man realized his condition and made the choice to go back to his roots... the place he had left by choice... Home.

"I'm going Home"... rings in my heart... sings ... repeats... vibrates my soul... quickens my spirit... moves my feet... "I'm going Home".

My journey home started in the end of August 2011 when I left Langley.  I knew I had to leave Langley... I knew I needed space and time... new scenery... old friends... family.  I called my sister and explained how I was feeling... she heard the urgency in my voice and moved with compassion as usual... I left for Michigan a few days later.  Roger and Karen opened their home to me for two months in Holland... they fed me, they listened to me, they comforted me... they loved me... they cared for me... they helped me... they made me feel at home.  Michigan was wonderful... it was not home.  Being with my sister and her family was really good for me ... we reconnected... It was hard for them.. stressful... I was not well, not better.  It was good for me.  It caused me want to be well... better... miss  home... made me want home... made me realize how important home is... A place to return to when life has wiped you out... Thanks Sis... Thank you Roger... you were wonderful to me... healing... eye opening...  "I'm going Home".

The next step in my journey home was moving to Bentonville, Arkansas and to the home of my best friend Scott Burford.  I arrived here the weekend before Halloween.  I took out my banjo on the first day and picked some bluegrass with my dear friend... it felt like home... it sounded like home.  My time in Arkansas has been an absolute blessing... an oasis... healing has happened here... wholeness has begun... I got better.  I have gotten well enough to get back on my knees.  They fed me... (man have they fed me)... they included me... (just the other day Matthew, while singing a song, called me Jesse Burford) ... they helped me... they listened to me... (over and over again)... I love being in their Home... I love it... they are family.  But, its not my Home.  Arkansas is not my home... felt like home... sounded like home.  Thank you Scott... Thank you Jenni... Thanks Boys... Thank you for being there for me... Thanks for everything... "I'm going Home".

I know how the prodigal son felt... when he woke up and realized his condition.  I know exactly how he felt... I understand what its like to be so down, so low... feel so helpless and lost... so ashamed.  It's easier to just live with the pigs in your life... sleep with them and eat their food...  When you get past the smell, pigs are pretty good company and if you listen real close they can talk.  Pigs say things like... "just except your condition"... "you caused it "... "You wasted everything you have been given"... "it's over"... "just lay down with us"... "eat the slop"... "it's all you deserve"... "things will never get better"... I know how the prodigal son felt... he felt alone.  I know what the prodigal son thought.  I know he had thoughts and desires to go home all the time... not just once... not just in the end...  He had thoughts of going home all the way down... all the way down to the pigs level.  I remember the first time I wanted to go home... December the 4th 2008... I was in my shop... I was drunk... I was high... I was on antidepressants... in a state of voodoo blackness... and I clearly hear... "Jesse, you owe me a life"... I recognized the voice... He wanted me to come home... I wanted to run home right then... I tried...I was to dizzy to stand... my world was spinning... I could not get home.  I've felt like going home hundreds of times since... I was not my time... It would not have been good for "Us"... I was still very sick... not ready to admit my failure... my faults... to proud... and the pigs liked my company.  "Hey Pigs" ... "I'm going Home"!

One of the differences between the prodigal son and I is he was a son... a young man.   I am a dad... older... "The Prodigal Dad".  I am a dad who lost his way... a dad who lost his friends... a dad who lost his inheritance, his life, his health... his faith... and I ended up in something much worse than a pig sty... it was a pit.  "I'm going Home" was faintly heard in the pit... the walls seemed to suck the sound out of the air... sucked the life and light out of everything.  Then something changed... My world stopped spinning... I felt steady... stronger... I got up, I got out... my journey home began... "I'm going Home".

The journey home is not easy.  I know how the prodigal son felt as he walked home ... afraid.  The Prodigal Dad is afraid... I am struggling with fear... fear.  My friend and counselor Paddy once explained anger to me in this way... "Unresolved fear and hurt turns into anger... Jesse, you must accept and admit your fear".  So, friends and family I confess that "I am afraid".  I have fear in these areas... I am afraid I will fail... again... I am afraid I will get sick... again... I am afraid I will let my kids down... again.  (I have others but, thats enough for now)  I'm sure the prodigal son experienced many different fears along the way home... fear of what would happen when he saw his Father... his brother... others... but, he kept walking... he probably thought he could stop or settle down along the way... but, he kept walking... Or maybe, "this is close enough, I could drop by for the holidays"...  he just kept walking.  Imagine if he had stopped... imagine if he had let his fear stop him... what a bummer ending to a great parable... "He got half way home and stopped".  I like the traditional ending better.  I am afraid... and ... I am going Home... all the way... I am afraid and I am going all the way Home.  I hear the words of my mom ... "Trust in the Lord with all your heart... Don't lean on your own understanding... In all your ways acknowledge Him... and He will direct your paths".  He "will" direct my path... my path Home... I am going Home... He will get me Home.  I can Trust Him He has never let me down... ever.  I have learned that leaning on my own understanding is very risky... 30% of the time it works 60% of the time.  Acknowledging Him is easy... I just did.  Therefore, I will pack my fear in my suitcase between my socks and my shaving creme... right on the bottom.  "I am going Home".

My daughter and son had to watch the demise of "The Prodigal Dad"... they watched their dad fall... they saw me at my worst... they watched me slowly disappear into a vapor of my former self...  they saw me with the pigs.  There are no words available to describe the depth of my sorrow.   They have worried about me... cared for me... cried for me... longed for me... loved me...  There are no words available to describe my gratitude.  I owe them a life... I owe them my life... I gave my life to them the moment I saw them... I knew what I was doing... I was serious.  I hear them... I feel them... always. "I"m going Home"!!!  They are waiting for me... and when I get there... when I see them... while they are still a long way off in the distance... I will run to them... I will hang on their necks... I will say "Just let me be your servant... just let me be near you"... They will say "DAD! ... everyone look... it's our dad... we thought he was dead... lost... done... but, he has returned... Dad is back... Dad is Home! ...  The Prodigal Dad has returned... "I'm going Home"... "They" are my Home.

 When I get home I am going to have a feast with my kids... We are going to go to "Memphis Blues" and order the "Elvis platter"... all the bar-b-qued pork we can eat... thats right... we are going to eat a pig... thats all they are good for anyway.

I am "The Prodigal Dad" on my way Home ... I am also a prodigal son.   I am a son who left home and made a mess of things... listened to the wrong voices... followed bad advice... made bad choices... sinned.   My Father has been calling me home too... my Spiritual Home.  I'm going Home.  I heard something the other day... "You have left your first love... go do the things you did in the beginning"... I'm going Home.  I owe God a life... my life.  I gave him my life when I was 21 years old... and He accepted it... He wanted my life... He still wants my life.  I was serious... I knew what I was doing... I gave Him my life, heart, soul, mind and strength... He accepted it.  "I am going Home".  It's hard to wrestle something out of the hand of God... I have tried.  When He holds something... He holds on tight... He never lets go... I am glad He never lets go... I am glad He has watched the whole thing... I am glad He never took His eye off me... always whispered encouragement ... "Come on... you can do it... get up... come Home"... "You can make it... just keep walking... Your almost Home"   I know the second I top the horizon I will see Him running... He always runs when a prodigal comes home... ring in hand... new clothes waiting... table set.

I am going "Home"!

I just heard the sound of feet.

Running.

Home.



Post Script:  I have one more scheduled stop on my journey home... California.  There's gold in California.  I'm going to pick some up on my way home... A little gold will be good for "us"... Home.

No comments:

Post a Comment