Coming Home

There he was. Watching. Waiting.

I was enjoying a long-overdue, out-of-state visit with my relatives. My aunt and I had been running errands and visiting other nearby kin I hadn’t seen in several years. Time passed quickly. The return back to my aunt and uncle’s home took much longer than expected.

So there he was. Watching. Waiting.

As we drove up the slight incline of the black top driveway filled with crunchy, fall leaves, I spotted him in the lamplight of the immense picture window spanning the front room of their Midwestern home. He sat in a swivel chair positioned at the corner of the window. Looking straight out the window, his hands were planted on both knees. No doubt he was alert to how tardy we were in our return.

I ran into the house and bounced into the living room.

“Whatcha doing, Uncle Gene?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you.”

I thought little about his statement until the next night. We were expecting an evening arrival from one of my cousins, also out-of-state. My uncle’s daughter.

A quiet hush filled the house as I was drying the evening dishes. My aunt and uncle had dispersed; there was not even the distant hum of a television. I raised my eyebrows and shuffled to the edge of the kitchen to peek around the corner. There he was, looking straight out. Once again in the swivel chair in front of the large window, he sat with his hands on his knees.

I gave the towel a gentle toss over my shoulder and crossed my arms. Tilting my head to the side, I approached.

“You’re out here again, Uncle Gene?” My voice soft. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, I’m just sitting here, watching and waiting.” He swung the chair around with his feet and faced me with his wide, infectious grin. “I just like to make sure people get here safely. I always wait for people to come home.”

I meandered back to the kitchen. Echoes of Uncle Gene’s words stirred my mind. He had patiently waited for my safe return from my escapades the day before. Now, he was waiting for his child to come home.

I was struck by the quiet image of my uncle sitting at the window, keeping a vigilant watch for the safe return of his loved ones. A sudden thought conjured up an image of my heavenly Father.

Is that how my God feels about me?

Sometimes I stray a bit. I get sidetracked, or haven’t been in touch with God for a while. Sometimes, I’m just flat disobedient. I never before gave any thought to how God must feel when I’m gone for a bit, sometimes much longer than expected.

Jesus shares the parable of the lost son in Luke 15:11-32. He tells the story of how a father divided his property between his two sons. One son worked hard for his father on his property and never disobeyed him. The other son took his share of his father’s estate and took off for a distant country, where he squandered his wealth in wild living. He eventually ran out of money and found himself in need. Coming to his senses, he humbly returned home to his father.

“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.”  Luke 15:20

Overjoyed, the father spared no expense for a fine feast to celebrate his son’s return.

Naturally, the other son was angry and jealous. He had worked tirelessly for his father. He lived prudently, always obedient. He struggled to fathom why on earth his father would welcome and reward his wayward, disobedient brother. The father offered this explanation:

“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'”  Luke 15:31

Know this–God loves you and me unconditionally. He desires nothing more than our safe return and communion with Him.

He’s always right here. Watching. Waiting.

Are you coming home?