The Heart of the Father

Written by Annie Curtis

The Journey

The road stretched before him, dusty and long. His clothes were worn and torn. Each step carried the weight of his shame, yet a quiet hope whispered that the slightest mercy might await him at journey’s end. The sun dipped low, painting shades of gold and amber, a reminder of the home he had almost forgotten.

He rehearsed his words: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son" (Luke 15:18–19). But as he neared his home, his father saw him from afar. With arms outstretched and tears streaming down his face, the father ran to embrace him. The son's words of sorrow and repentance melted into weeping, he was held by his father, not as a servant, but as a beloved child who had come back home.

A Prodigal Daughter

There was a time when I drifted far from the One who loved me most. Like the great Titanic, I was determined to chart my own course. I went farther than I meant to go and stayed longer than I intended to stay. But before I lost my way, God had already written His redemption plan for my story.

My Foundation

I was raised on a quiet country road, surrounded by backgrounds of holiness. A church mother lived to my right and another to my left. As my two friends and I played on my Grandpa’s porch, or sometimes under his maple tree, the church guitarist, who lived next door to him, often sat in the cool of the evening, strumming the most beautiful melodies you could ever hope to hear.

The Holiness church I grew up in was strict, disciplined, and filled with reverence for God. I was no stranger to the mourning bench, tarrying until a breakthrough. Yes, there were rules and I understood early on that holiness was not only something I experienced on Sundays, but a lifestyle, a heart aligned with the perfect will of God.

A Wandering Heart

Although I had a good christian foundation, like anyone else, I wasn't shielded from temptations. My heart began to wander, slowly turning away from God, following my own desires, unyielding, and unaware of the dangers that lurked ahead. By the time I was in college, I made choices that separated me from the One who was truly faithful. That separation created a deep void in my soul, and for someone who was created to worship, I longed to feel His presence once again.

A Praying Mother and Steadfast Father

In spite of it all, I had a praying mother who stood in the gap for me and a father who never quit supporting me. My mother’s prayers were the bridge between where I was then and where God was calling me to be. My parents never criticized me or looked at me with eyes of shame. I was loved through my rebellion. It was a love that reflected the heart of God.

An Awakening to Repentance and Restoration

Eventually, I hit rock bottom. My choices caught up with me, I had to face the consequences of my actions and the hard realization that some of the things that I pursued were not in the will of God for my life.

But God…

He met me at my lowest place, on my face before Him, crying out for mercy and forgiveness. Through prayer, fasting, and a repentant heart, I was healed, delivered, and set free from the bondage of addictions. I found His Word to be true: if I confess my sins, He is faithful and just to forgive my sins and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9, NIV); and Romans 5:1, “Therefore, having been justifed by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ.”

I was a prodigal daughter, once lost, now found. I was once broken, but now I am made whole. His grace reached farther than my rebellion. His mercy waited longer than I strayed. God’s unfailing, unchanging, and unconditional love brought me back to a right relationship with Him.

Reflection

In this harvest season, let us be reminded that the doors of home and Heaven are open. This is a time of love, forgiveness, and feasting at the table. It is more than a return to family or a place; it is restoration, returning to God our Father, who is waiting with arms outstretched to welcome us back home.

Coming Back Home