Pig Pen Realizations

I doubt that it takes the Father by surprise when the youngest comes forward with brazen request.  'I'm ready, Dad,' he puffs up his chest, 'I want my share of the inheritance; I'm off to see the world.'  Of course, the Father knows the son is far from ready.  But rather than fight over it, brandishing authority and harsh sounding words, He simply, graciously.. agrees.  The money is withdrawn or removed from a safe or unearthed.. whatever the case may be, and handed over to a child who thinks he's a man, thinks he's ready, thinks he has what it takes.  And without a glance over his shoulder, adventurous son trots down the road, flags a cab (or a donkey..) and the journey begins.
The start of his new life is grand, extravagant; full of, I'm sure, exactly what the young son had in mind.  But the money dwindles, the lifestyle catches up and he wakes up one morning to the stark reality of his situation.  He has nothing left.  He can't afford the room for another wild night, can't even afford breakfast for his growling belly.  And if that's the case, well, the company he's been keeping can't afford to stick around either.  Party's over and he's all out of luck.

In his search for a job, the incompetence is revealed.  'So, you have no experience?  What about references?' says shop keeper after restaurant owner.  They're not impressed and, honestly, the young son doesn't blame them.  He's given up on himself when he stumbles across the pig farmer.  'No education necessary, just keep the animals fed.  And don't get any ideas about the scraps.. I need my hogs plump.'
This arrangement could only last so long.  The young son was barely scraping by and he started to think about the servants in the house where he grew up.  Even the lowest of the low in his Father's home had more than enough to eat.  And at last, the young son came to his senses.
The walk home was the longest of his life but the battle within him had come to an end, all he felt now was remorse and surrender.  He would mop kitchen floors, take out the trash; no task was too low as long as he could come home.  The speech was rehearsed time and time again until the words flowed effortlessly, 'Father, I am sorry.  I've sinned against heaven and against you!  I'm not worthy to be called your son but, please, make me like one of your hired servants.'

Little did the dejected, dirty son realize that the Father saw him as soon as he rounded the corner.  He had been waiting for his return and He was thrilled to see his son!  The Father tore out of the house and, robes flapping in the wind, raced down the driveway.  Imagine the surprise on the young son's face as he realized Who was creating the cloud of dust headed right towards him!  Before he had time to process or react, the arms of his Father were flung around him and all in a rush he knew it to be true, he had come home.
Tears burned hot in the young son's eyes, and his perfect words were jumbled.  The Father didn't seem to notice and didn't acknowledge the request for humble work.  He was too busy kissing his son, flinging his robe around him and ordering the servants to prepare a grand party!  'My son has come home and it's time to celebrate!  He was dead and is alive again.  He was lost and is found!'  The Father's arm never left the young son's shoulders and as the boy summoned enough courage to look his Dad in the eyes, he saw nothing but love and it brought him to his knees.  No judgment, no bitterness and not a single ounce of 'I told you so'; although all of the above would have been duly justified.

The story continues in Luke 15 but this is where I'm stuck right now.  The lump grows in my own throat as I identify with this young son.  It matters not the size of the pig pen or the type of mud I wallowed in, the truth is that I was there.  We've all been there.  Sometimes we revisit that stinking hog pen on a daily basis!  Convinced of our own sufficiency, off to prove a thing or two, maybe we're just plain stubborn.  It might look grand for a time but in the end we find ourselves wading through pig scraps and you know what else.  And that's when we feel the pull on our hearts, the longing for true love and the whisper of Hope that this world can not offer.
Our Father lets us go our own way, allowing us to squander the riches He gives.  He knows that we have to figure it out on our own.  As much as He would love to save us the heartache, a true Father doesn't want us in His house out of obligation but because we choose to be there and realize the gift that it is to be His child.  He freely lets us go and then He waits, longing for the day that we will come to our senses.
When I arrive at the end of myself I can finally realize my desperate need for the One who has it all together.  But sometimes it takes awhile to become aware of the fact that I'm wallowing in a pig pen when I could have access to the castle!  The walk home will seem long but He will meet us there!  And I can guarantee, His response is always abundantly more than we deserve.  His response is love; the kind that bring us to our knees.
“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 15:19