He could see his father’s house now. He rehearsed his apology for the tenth time. The prodigal son was home. He felt so unworthy and began his speech. But the father doesn’t even let him finish. He runs to him, embraces him, and says, “Bring out the best robe.” Not a lecture. Not a delay. A robe and a celebration. The son had no song or practised prayer. He just returned. And that was enough.
Seems that God isn’t looking for polished performances—He’s looking for hearts that return to Him. He’s not impressed by our perfection. He’s moved by humility. “The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." Zep 3:17. What wait! He rejoices over us with singing. Not just tolerates us. Not just forgives us. He dances. He celebrates when we come close. Our past doesn’t have to be good, our approach well-timed, or our worship pitch-perfect. Our heart just has to be real. When you draw near, He runs near. When you love Him, even in weakness, He is moved.
Friend, if you’ve been distant, distracted, or discouraged—come home! If you’ve been comparing your journey to someone else’s, lay it down. If you must compare, compare the chill of a pig pen to the warmth of a father’s arms. If you are wondering whether your love matters to God, it does.