A Prodigal Comes Home
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My only child at fourteen lost her dad. She knew he departed for Heaven, but still her heart was troubled. For eighteen years she became a prodigal. Though I grieved over her wayward ways, the Lord gave me peace in the night.
She did not talk to me about her Dad. We had little communication while we both lived in the same house. The closest times were when we cried together. Then she knew I cared. Many years later, I learned she blamed me for her Dad's death. My daughter admitted her anger.
At times I learned of some new disaster. My heart went pitter-patter. Sometimes, tears came to .my eyes. They flooded down my cheeks when I did not know her whereabouts. Other times, I cried when she was in trouble. In such crises we hardly felt like talking. Sometimes, I heard nothing from her.
My prayers for her did not stop. I came to the place where I said, "Whatever it takes, Lord. Bring her back to Thee." Once I even prayed, "Take her or break her." When the Lord did not take her, I figured He surely had some purpose for her life. The Lord again and again filled my heart with His peace.
Those years were not easy. I often thought, I do not know what or how to pray. Words did not come, but the Lord heard the prayers of my heart. He continued giving me His peace and joy in the worst circumstances. I felt so weak and powerless. I could not work up myself to feel at ease. That came from the One higher than I.
For many years my prayers ascended for my daughter. Even when things looked the bleakest, the Lord was there. He worked behind the scenes. He gave me peace.
Some time later, the phone rang. My daughter did not ask me for anything this time. Her voice sounded joyful, cheerful. "Mom, Ken and I attended the baptist church you contacted. Thank you, again. We both want to keep going." (She had thanked me before when the pastor visited them and helped them.)
She called again. We joined the church. One time we talked for about two hours. We are both on the same track. It is so good.
She was excited about her church. "Mom, I can't talk long. I'm going to a wedding. The pastor's daughter is getting married. Mom, I need a recipe for potato salad and Grandma's recipe for a pie crust. It's the only recipe that turns out right for me." When she informed me they were both attending church, I shouted, "Hallelujah!" I jumped up and down. Yes, I became excited, too.
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