The Prodigal's Empty Chair

I read the story of the Prodigal Son this morning and a thought came to mind that I don't recall hearing before. We've all read this story or heard it in some fashion. At least, I think if you're reading this post you have heard it. Here is the short version.

Wealthy family going about their business. The youngest son decides he wants his inheritance early. Father obliges him and he takes off to live it up in the big city. Eventually, the money runs out and so do the friends and he ends up living in a pigpen, the antiquated equivalent of a cardboard box in an alley.

One day, he wakes up and realizes he's living like a pig. He remembers he comes from a kind and loving family who feeds their pigs better than he is eating. Reasoning he can't do any worse, he heads home and his father greets him with open arms and a blowout party. 

Older son hears the noise and has a fit. This is his inheritance they're spending now. 

Most sermons that use this story to express the forgiveness and loving kindness of God. They point out that no matter how far we go, how low we sink, how disgusting we live, God will always welcome us back into his fold and give us a place at his table. It's a beautiful story about the grace and mercy of God. This morning I got something different from it.

It's true God will forgive us and welcome us back home again. He will allow us to enjoy the bounty of his house. As long as we stay there and abide by his teachings and his (forgive me for this bad word) rules.

Yeah, I said it. There're rules at Dad's house. Remember when you lived with your parents and you had to follow all those rules? You couldn't wait to get out of there and do your own thing. Then.... you lost your job and had to go home to live with Mom and Dad again. But hey, you're an adult now. What can they do? Then you find out the truth. Mom and Dad haven't changed. The rules are still there.

We will always be welcome in our Father's arms. We will always have his love. But we still have to follow his rules. There are still requirements to reap the benefits of his bounty. He desires to share with us, but he can't be in the presence of sin. It is impossible for him to live with it. To do so would make him less than God. He will not hold second place to anything, for anyone.

We can go home and receive a grand welcome. But if we leave again, we will leave it behind and in this story there is no portion for the Prodigal Son to take with him this time. Everything belongs to the faithful son who stays in his Father's house and cares for the Father and his inheritance. He gets up, goes to work, plants, waters, and reaps the harvest. He shears the livestock, feeds and milks the cows. He deals with the laborers and sees that the house is in good repair. He enjoys the company and love of his Father. And he follows the rules.

The Prodical will ALWAYS be a Prodical as long as he is away from home. If he comes home and leaves again, he will be a Prodigal. He will die a Prodigal if he does not return. He is eternally denied his rightful place at the table.

You can't live in the pigpen of sin and live in the Father's house. You may visit, but that doesn't make you a son. You may show up on holidays and special occasions to share a meal, but that doesn't make you a son. Guest are welcome at the Father's house but if they leave unchanged, they are still only guests.

To be a son, you must return to stay. And you must follow His rules. You don't have to be perfect, you just have to strive to be like your Father every day. Remember those dinners when you were a kid and all your relatives got together? Someone was always dropping things, spilling things, talking too loud. But it was an amazing place to be! You could have stayed there forever. No one remembered the spilled food, broken glasses, and loud talking. All you remember is the love you felt sitting in that room with your family, people you loved and that loved you.

In the Father's house, the table is always ready for family gatherings when you get home and filled with love. You can eat every meal at that table. But only if you live there. I want to sit at His table forever.

I'll save you a seat.

Time: A Place To Pray

© August, 1998 Cynthia Maddox

I have a special room that is all my own. The walls are lined with books and a lovely, thick, dark blue carpet covers the floor. A comfortable chair sits in a corner of this room. Next to it stands a small table with a lamp by which I can read. A window seat is piled with pillows on which I can relax and read. My computer is here so I can write. For times I feel like creating something to wear, my sewing machine is stored in a cabinet. There is a lock on the door to this room for the times I want to shut myself away.

It is a lovely room but not real. The reality is that I have no place like that in my home or anywhere else. When my children were small I had a spare bedroom all to myself where I wrote, sewed and had private time to read or pray. Now, they are teenagers needing their space. When I work there are phones and people. At home there are phones and people. Sometimes I want to run away just to be alone. 

Our hectic lives often make it difficult to keep up with all the demands, especially women today. More often than not we will have a full-time job, in addition to one or two children. If you are a Christian working mother, there are even more demands on your time. Non-Christian women may have time for a hobby or some form of entertainment, but Christian women have church services during the week. In addition to attending a ladies or prayer meetings, she must also find time to have daily prayer. And let’s not forget the cooking and cleaning. It is no wonder some women come to church looking like they just participated in a marathon, were mugged or never went to bed the night before. As for cranky, well I dare any man to try it for a week and still smile.

I’ve been many kinds of mom, stay-at-home, army, working and homeschooling. For five years I was a college mom. I was a full-time student with two children at home in 1992-1994. My husband’s job took him away from home for weeks at a time. Most of the time I was tired. No friends or family lived nearby to help with the kids or help out if my car broke down or if I became sick. And instead of offering to help with my load, my Christian “friends” criticized me for missing one service a week.

My day was long. I got up, got the kids off to school and was at school myself by 8 or 9 a.m. Upon my return the kids were usually already there. I helped with homework and cooked supper. Then I cleaned the kitchen, did laundry, got the kids bathed and helped with unfinished homework. I might have had time to relax but usually the boys were in bed by 9 o’clock so I could do my homework. I went to bed around one or two a. m. At 6:30 I began again. Saturday I cleaned the whole house and did laundry.

Donna became my best non-christian friend in college. One morning, during a break, we were discussing our harried lifestyles. As we discussed all the demands on our time she made a profound statement. She said, “We need wives.”  We often joked about how much was required of us and how our husbands came in and got their favorite chair, asked for supper, and took a nap. It wasn’t really funny but it helped us deal with the frustrations. After college we both went to work. When we compared notes we found we were still doing the day job and the housework while hubby napped.

So when did I pray during the five years it took me to finish school? There were days when I was at home alone for several hours. I did a lot of studying then. I used some of that time for prayer. “Free” time remained a rare thing.

Every morning I drove 15 miles to school alone and in the afternoon I returned home. In semesters when I had a night class once or twice a week I made up to four round trips a day. On those frequent trips, I noticed people talking on their car phones, singing with the radio or just riding. I seldom listen to the radio in the car and I don't have a car phone. So I began to talk to the Lord. I told him of my worries all the way to school. At times, I drove to school thanking God for all He had done for me. I cried on my way home because I loved Him so much. Often I would arrive home unable to remember the trip.

I repeatedly apologized to the Lord for praying in such a manner. Many times a voice would whisper:  this isn’t really praying; you look so silly talking to yourself; what will people think; and God doesn’t listen to this kind of praying. But I kept praying. I had to!  I needed to talk to Him.

It reached the point that every time I got in my car I began automatically to talk to God. I didn’t realize how far it had gone until the day one of the boys and I had to go somewhere. As soon as I got in the car I began talking quietly to myself and he said, “Mom, who are you talking to?”  I just stopped and stared at him. I was so startled I didn’t know what to say. I had instinctively begun praying the moment I started the car! That was the day I learned one of the many truths about God.

The scripture in Thessalonians which says to pray without ceasing has always puzzled me. I have pondered the idea of constant prayer often, but I didn’t see how anyone could do it. I discovered I was wrong. We can become so used to praying that it becomes instinctive, even in strange and unusual places. We can automatically break into praise and worship without thinking about it. Instinctive prayer!  What a concept.

Some may say if you aren’t kneeling, it isn’t prayer. Too bad for the man with no legs. I once heard someone suggest that you can’t have a real relationship with God without an hour a day in prayer. Perhaps they had a whole hour every day, uninterrupted, in private. I don’t. Not many people do and so they just don’t pray at all. After all, if you can’t meet the requirements, why bother. Right?  Wrong.

Others will say this type of prayer has no  meaning because there is no conscious thought. It is true that no conscious thought is involved, but it is not true that the mind is not involved.

Every natural process in the human body is done without conscious thought. You don’t have to think about breathing because your body knows how to do it. You don’t have to tell your eyes to blink to keep them moist. Even your dreams are controlled by your brain without your conscious thought. And it is possible to learn to control your dreams while you are asleep. I’ve done it.

What could be more natural than to pray to the Creator?  Words are formed in our mind and our mind tells our voice to speak. The Bible said “Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh.” Our heart and our mind appear to be linked. How could what I call instinctive prayer be meaningless if the mind/heart is involved in the process.

Prayer was meant to be just as natural as our breathing or our heart beat. It was intended as a means of constant communication between us and the Creator. We should find ourselves breaking into prayer for no reason, at unusual times, in unusual places. There should be prayer over our dishes, toilets, and car engines. I don’t mean roll in the floor, jump up and down, top of your lungs prayer (unless you want that, but be prepared for strange looks, especially from your children.). No, I mean conversation and thanks for all the blessings we have been given. God loves it when we just talk to Him!  If we spent more time talking to God this way, we might find some of our heavy-duty prayers get answered a lot quicker and more often.

Perhaps we should stop worrying so much about a “special place” or a “special time” to pray. If you have either, use it and be thankful. If you don’t perhaps you should be more concerned with making the time special. Take a ride in the country or to work and make your time a place to pray.