Freewriting Day 9: Coming Home

To the ones who are dirty. Those who think they are out of reach of grace. They don't even try to hide what they have done. What's the use? It echoes in their mind, over and over. I am wretched. I don't deserve anything but pain.

Beat me. Whip me. Spit in my face. I deserve it. I won't turn away. Nothing you could do to me could be worse than the pain I carry every day.

You might see me in public and flinch. I don't want to be near him. I can't stand the sight of him. Is he human or just a pile of trash?

I am here. I am breathing. But I feel invisible. Scratch that. I wish I was invisible. I no longer feel my heart beating. It is just a faint thud. The pain of this life has consumed me.

I want to be rid of this weight. I am tired of living this way. It's the same routine day in and day out. I put on layers and layers hoping I can live. I am miserable this way.

I want to shed the guilt. I am tired of the shame. I want to let the healing balm touch me, but I am scared.

I have sat at this place long enough. I want to be free. I know it starts with the first step. I've made up my mind. I am going back to Father's House.

Nothing could have prepared me for the joy that flooded my soul. In my filthy rags, I felt unworthy. But from that first glance as I dared to look up, it was evident that I never stopped being His son.

No longer trudging forward in fear, I ran forward at a breakneck speed. I had a date with my destiny!

I was home. I am free. What are you waiting for? I know I am not the only one who has gone astray.

Love washed over me in ways that I never expected. No words were needed, but through the tears, Father whispered, "I've been waiting."