For the day he turns back

I picture the father watching the road, Lord, and I understand why he kept looking. I, too, carry a hope for the day my son turns toward You. I do not know whether that day will come as a sudden homecoming or as a quiet change almost no one notices.

Prepare me to meet him with compassion. If he begins asking questions, keep me from overwhelming him with answers. If he takes one uncertain step, do not let me demand ten more. Make me ready to listen to what brought him back, including whatever may be difficult for me to hear.

I pray that shame will not keep him at a distance. Let him know that the grace of Jesus is not reserved for people who have never wandered. Give him courage to turn toward You honestly, without rehearsing a speech or proving that he deserves welcome.

And while I watch and pray, keep me from standing at the window so intently that I fail to live. Let hope make me tender, not consumed. Help me love the son who is here now, not only the future version I imagine.

If the day comes, let my first response be joy. Let there be open arms before explanations, gratitude before questions, and room for his faith to grow in its own honest way.