A Father's Love: Running to Redemption

Remembering the Porch

I’ve been thinking lately about how I’ve turned into my dad. Sitting on the back deck, watching the deer, the squirrels, and the birds—it reminds me of how my father used to sit on the porch every day. Just resting. Reflecting. Living simply.

He was a hard man. People ask me where I got my work ethic from, and I tell them: it came from a size 7½ shoe—his shoe. He was tough on me, but that tough love made me who I am today.

But there’s more than one father I’ve been blessed with. I want to take a moment and honor my father-in-law, John. He’s taken me in like his own son. He’s loved me like a second father, and I’m grateful for that love.

Both of those men taught me something deep—something spiritual. And it all ties into one of the most powerful stories in scripture: the story of the Prodigal Son.

The Story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11–32)

Let me walk you through it.

"Then He said: A certain man had two sons. And the younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the portion of goods that falls to me.' So he divided to them his livelihood..." —Luke 15:11–12 (NKJV)

The younger son took his inheritance and ran. He wasted it on wild living, found himself broke and broken, feeding pigs and starving. And then the Bible says something key:

"But when he came to himself..." —Luke 15:17

That’s where everything changed. He said, “I will arise and go to my father.” And while he was still a long way off, the father saw him and ran to him.

Did you catch that? The father ran.

A Father Who Runs

In their culture, fathers didn’t run. It was seen as undignified. But this father didn’t care—he saw his son, and love overrode dignity. He sprinted to meet him. Why? Because he had to get there before the rest of the town could.

You see, tradition said that if a son disgraced the family and returned home, the community could stone him before he ever reached the gate. But the father ran first, covered him, embraced him, and restored him—before the boy could even say a word.

That’s the love of our Heavenly Father. He doesn’t wait for us to clean up. He doesn’t demand we earn our way back. He runs. He covers. He restores.

"But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." —Romans 5:8

What Real Restoration Looks Like

I noticed something else: the father didn’t say, “Let’s clean you up first.” No, he immediately put the robe on him, the ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. That robe, that ring, that calf—they all belonged to the older brother. The inheritance had already been split!

But love overrides entitlement. The older brother got angry, and I get it. Sometimes we’re like that too—we’ve been faithful, we’ve worked hard, and it seems like grace is unfair. But the father said:

"Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours." —Luke 15:31

He reminded the older son that love is not diminished by grace—it is revealed through it.

Coming to Ourselves

There comes a point in all of our lives when we must come to ourselves. No more excuses. No more hiding in the pigpen. No more shame. Just a moment of truth:

"I’ve sinned. I need to go home."

I've been there. I’ve sat in the pit of my own mistakes, crying ugly tears, wondering why God allowed it all to happen. But just like that son, I had to come to myself.

And just like that father, God ran to me.

You Can’t Cover Pig Slop with a Robe

Now here’s the hard truth. Many of us receive the robe of grace but still walk around with the stench of the pigpen. We never wash off the filth. We claim Christianity but don’t live the love. We wear the ring of the Father but act like the world.

If you’ve seen me, have you seen the Father?

That’s a question I ask myself daily. Am I representing Jesus well—not just in deed, but in love?

One Choice Away

Life is a series of choices. The prodigal son made one bad choice after another—but he was only one good choice away from restoration.

Just one.

You may feel like you've lost it all. You may be surrounded by people who hurt you, betrayed you, or left you. I've been there too. I've had friends and family bid on my belongings at an auction after I lost everything.

But let me tell you something: you are never too far gone for the love of the Father.

He’s not just watching the road.

He’s already running.

Ministry Begins with Love

You want to do great ministry? Start by loving. Ministry isn’t always behind a pulpit—it’s in the driveway, in the grocery store, with the person sitting alone.

Jesus never had to advertise His meetings. People followed Him because of His love. That love drew them in. And that same love lives in us.

"By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." —John 13:35

From the Porch to the Cross

We’ve all been prodigals. We’ve all been older brothers. But God calls us to be like the father.

He calls us to run—not away from broken people—but toward them. To cover them with grace. To restore. To forgive. To love.

I want to live that kind of love. I want my dash—the little line between birth and death on my tombstone—to mean something. I want it to reflect Jesus.

Because when people see me, I want them to see the Father.

Final Word

You might be sitting in the middle of your mess, wondering if there’s still a way back. There is.

Come home.

The Father is not mad at you.

He's waiting on the porch.

And He's already running.

If you’re ready to take that step, say it with me:

“Father, I’ve sinned. But I’m coming home. Restore me. Clean me. And help me live a life that reflects Your love.”

Amen.