A Prodigal’s Story

I was just sixteen years old when my father kicked me off the family farm.

There was no great ceremony to it. One day he simply drove me to the highway and dropped me off. Suddenly, I was on my own.

I wasn’t sure what to do next, and I had no place to go. I found work at a meat packing plant and I spent my days shovelling feed into a cooker. I even remember thinking, “Is this what a prodigal really has to do?”

Working at the packing plant was rough and I knew I didn’t want to do that for the rest of my life. I knew there had to be something better out there and I had some friends that I wanted to see anyway, so I packed up and headed to Saskatchewan. I found work there and continued to make my own way.

I don’t know how my life would have turned out if things had continued like that. I don’t know what kind of person I would be, if not for a very special visit I received about a month later.

My grandfather lived in British Columbia. He had heard about what happened between me and my dad and had been looking for me ever since. When he discovered where I was, he hopped on a bus and came to see me.

After what had happened with my father, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But there wasn’t any scolding or disapproval. Instead, we talked.

“I know you’re young,” he advised me. “You’re young and full of vim and vigour. There are lots of things you’ll want to do. Enjoy your youth, but don’t wreck your life.”

As he was leaving, my grandfather promised to go and have a talk with my father. “Your father had no business kicking you out like he did,” he told me. “You may be out here on your own, but you are still part of this family. Don’t ever forget that.”

Those words meant more to me than I could have imagined. Being on your own is scary. Feeling like you’re no longer part of your own family – that’s even scarier. Yet here was my grandfather: he loved me and came to find me just to make sure I knew it. He gave me encouragement and support at a time when I needed it most.

Maybe it was easier for him, being the grandparent instead of the parent and not so close to things – I don’t know. I do know that I will never forget that visit and the way it made me feel. No matter what I had done, no matter what had happened, my grandfather still loved me. He still believed in me and in the man I could become.

It would be many years before things were right between my father and me. Because of my grandfather’s visit, though, I had hope of reconciliation. I had hope - period.

It’s this same kind of hope we have through Jesus Christ. All of us are prodigals, separated from our heavenly Father by sin. We are out on our own. We work and make our own way. We struggle with loneliness and isolation and spend our lives trying to figure out how to make things better.

Then Jesus comes to find us where we are. He comforts us and listens to our hurts. He is saddened by our sin, but rejoices that we can come home, through His death on the cross. He tells us, “I don’t care what you have done, I don’t care what has happened, I still love you.”

There is hope for every prodigal, though sometimes it is hard for us to see. Sometimes we are called to reach out to each other and be the hands and feet of Jesus for each other here on earth. My grandfather did that for me.

And this prodigal will never be the same.

If you, like Art, have been or felt like a prodigal, you too, can have hope and become part of a larger family – the family of God. I encourage you to pray this suggested prayer:

Lord Jesus, I want to know You personally and be part of the family of God.  Thank You for dying on the cross for my sins. I open the door of my life and receive You as my Savior and Lord. Thank You for forgiving my sins and giving me eternal life. Take control of the throne of my life. Make me the kind of person You want me to be.

TweetEmailPrint