The Hope of the Wandering
Remembering the Father’s House - Barbie Acevedo, Celebration Small Groups
Devotional on Luke 15:11-32
In Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son, we see not only a story of rebellion and return but also a portrait of God’s relentless love. The son didn’t just leave home—he left his father’s heart, demanding his inheritance and walking away from the one who had always loved him. He chose independence over intimacy, and it cost him everything.
Eventually, in a moment of desperation – hungry, humiliated, and feeding pigs – he remembered.
“But when he came to himself, he said… ’How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death!’” (Luke 15:17, NIV)
The son didn’t just remember the abundance of the father’s house – he remembered the father’s character. Even the hired hands were treated with dignity and care. Something shifted in him. He realized he didn’t need to stay stuck in shame or starve in a far-off land. He could go home.
I haven’t wandered physically, but I’ve felt the distance in my heart. I’ve gone through seasons where I’ve been present outwardly but far inwardly. Like the prodigal son, I’ve chosen independence over intimacy with Him – drifting from the peace, purpose, and His presence. And like the prodigal, I’ve heard the whispers of shame: “You should’ve known better.” “God’s probably disappointed in you.” “You’re not worthy to come back”.
Shame has tried to keep me away from my Father. It’s told me I need to earn my way back to Him, or at least clean myself up first. But Jesus tells a different story.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20)
This is the truth about our Father. He sees us while we’re still a long way off -– not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. He’s not waiting with a lecture but with compassion. He runs toward us with open arms, not because we’ve done everything right, but because we are still His.
When the son began his apology, the father interrupted with grace. He clothed him with a robe, gave him a ring, and called for a feast. That’s the heart of God. He doesn’t restore us reluctantly – He restores us joyfully.
If you’ve wandered in heart, remember this: the Father’s house is still your home. His arms are still open. And His voice still calls you “daughter”.