The Runaway Bunny

I had never really thought about the parable of the Prodigal Son in the way I did last night.
I had always assumed I was the elder brother. You know, the one who stays at home and does everything right and is rewarded at the end with a reassuring speech from the Father (who is God, in case anyone was unsure about that part).

But I'm afraid I've been baby brother.

I've squandered the gifts God gave me on trying to get attention (usually male attention, admittedly), trying to seek affirmation in all the wrong places. Because I knew I needed something, I still need something, so I went out in search of it.
But when the famine struck and I found no one who would smile at me and tell me how beautiful I was with a pat and a kiss every day, I floundered. I didn't know what to do. I grew "hungry," and desperate, and began taking compliments from anyone, devouring them ravenously as though a casual "You look cute today" from someone I didn't even like would be enough to keep me alive.
I knew it wouldn't.

And I thought in my selfish little brain, "How come my Christian friends always seem so satisfied? Why doesn't God sustain me like that?"

Little by little I realized, it was because I had refused to accept it. I hadn't been looking for God's loving embrace, His constant, genuine affirmations, of "You are my Child, the Beloved."
Well, there they were, the second I thought to look. God came running out to greet me on my shameful limp up the driveway (I always imagine the house in this story as having a really long driveway), and scooped me up in His arms, kissed my tears and whispered, "My Child, my baby girl, my sweet adored angel, how I've missed you!"

No one's love is more genuine.
Humans had failed me, time and again, but my Father, my perfect Savior, He never fails me.

If I hide among the crocuses in a secret garden, He is the Gardener and He finds me.
If I become a bird and flutter away in the distance, He is the Tree in which I rest my wings.
If I become a fish and swim away, He is the Fisherman, the Fisher of Men, who catches me.
When I am a little girl and I run away into a house, He is my Daddy, and he listens to me cry, and pets my hair, and tells me it's all alright.

The Lord will never fail me.
And there is nothing I can ever do, nowhere I can ever go, that will separate me from His love.
I have only to open my eyes and look for it, and there He is, running to meet me and say to me, "Sweetheart, how I missed you!"

So the next time you feel hungry, that you're missing the sustaining love that motivates you, just turn around, invite God back into your life and your heart, look for His blessings, and He will come running to you to hold you and tell you, "My dear, beloved Child, I missed you so."

Amen.