I’m home, she said, as if she didn’t know that joy would take my breath
And leave astonished fears, now laid to rest, to wither.
She drops her bags, the dirty, tattered bags that hold everything she
Owns, her blue eyes pleading for reprieve from consequences earned.
A noble thing, this power to offer grace to one whose actions brought such pain.
I wrap her in my arms, crush her to me, tears like winter’s thaw course down my face.
“You’ll never stop loving me, will you?” She had asked a few days prior and I
Had choked a, NO, through constricted vocal cords, had felt a tightness in my chest
That threatened to undo me, for questions such as this sometimes precede the greatest
I hoped, I prayed, but didn’t know if ever I would see this day. So off we go,
To the ocean haven that has been our refuge since her youngest days,
Of building castles in the sand, and walking slowly hand in hand along the
I’ll joy in every moment shared with my prodigal child who’s ready to move on in faith
That the God of her youth is with her still and she may yet fulfill His will in a life
torn early on by wolves in sheep’s clothing.
One day at a time, I know she’ll find she is beloved, precious in the eyes of God.
And I… well, I can stand and testify that God is good and will not fail to watch over every
Wayward child and hear our prayers and keep His eyes upon the sparrow clothed in flesh.
Welcome home, my precious child, come—let us return for a little while to the sand and sea,
And remembered things that held our hearts together in days gone by.
Come my child, let us return and offer praise to He who loves you even more than I.
Let’s give Him praise and walk along the seashore -- one more time.