Homecoming

We are finishing up Henri Nouwen's Return of the Prodigal Son. In it, Nouwen describes the details of Rembrandt's rendition of the story, and recommends that we make it a practice to continually return to the heart of God.

Now for those of you who always thought you were the older son, you're only partially right. You're also the younger son just as much as anyone else ever was.

So imagine this. You wake up and have breakfast with God. Then you get in the driver's seat of your car, where God is waiting in the passenger seat. You get to work, rushing to meet God at your desk. Then you go out to do God's work and there He is with your next patient. At the end of the day you are eager to get home to meet God, and you ride in the car with Him and arrive home, where He greets you at the door. No, he meets you on the sidewalk outside the door.

You can read this a few different ways. Unfortunately it sounds a little bit like "sharing" at a women's church luncheon, where someone says you can take God in your pocket with you all the time. Or it sounds like a cartoon where every time the villian turns around, the scrappy protagonist is there no matter how he was tied/locked up before. That's not what I mean.

I'm trying to describe it as, well, as coming home everywhere you go.