Several years ago, I was living in a small Mississippi Delta town called Indianola. I had just taken my first full-time Worship Pastor job at a small Methodist church there. A year or so into my time there, I began my first writing and recording project.

It wasn’t anything special or even all that memorable, but it was a first step. That fact, in and of itself, makes it at least important. (Remember, creative perfectionists—sometimes you just need to do the sloppy, poorly produced thing.)

Nonetheless, my family was proud. This led to a conversation between my Dad and I about song writing that ended with a challenge from him.

The challenge was simple— “write a song about this…” followed by the quote below.

“How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”

–William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying

I have been in love with this quote ever since. Nothing has ever quite resonated with me the way these words have. Maybe it’s a kinship of spirit, in that these words were penned by a fellow native Mississippian who also had a love for the deeper, more introspective nature of things. Maybe it’s that I have spent a good part of my life, in both childhood and adulthood, moving from town to town (my dad was also a worship pastor, so ministry is in my blood.)

Or…

Maybe it’s that these words express exactly what it feels like to be a follower and friend of Jesus. To belong to the kingdom of the here and not yet. To long for a home, in the words of Tolkien, in “the far green country.” A home that Jesus himself has gone to prepare for each one of us.

In Luke 15, Jesus tells one of the most famous parables in Scripture—the parable of the Prodigal Son. I won’t recount the whole thing, but on the off chance some of you reading this are unfamiliar with the story, here is a paraphrase:

A man had two sons. The younger son grows impatient and approaches his father to ask for his portion of the inheritance. The father reluctantly gives it to him, and the son then goes on to squander every penny in a “foreign” place, on all manner of deplorable things. Afterwards, he’s full of self-pity, as he is now broke and working one of the worst jobs a man could have (in this case, it’s tending pigs, which, for a Jew, would have been unspeakable). In his self-pity, he decides to return to his father and beg for a job as a servant. The father, of course, welcomes him with open arms and restores him to his place of honor within his household.

As I read this story, consider the quote from Faulkner, and imagine the son in the story, I wonder if he felt this very same longing.

Over the years, I’ve heard several pastors and speakers mention that this story would almost be better suited to be titled “The Prodigal Father.” So, what does prodigal actually mean?

A quick Google search reveals a few definitions. One aptly describes the son and the other, the father. One refers to wasteful spending, the other to giving in abundance. In both cases, I think we can agree they can be summed up in one word: excessive.

It’s in the meeting of these two ideas that the song was born.

As I sat with this idea of longing, but also excess, I began to wonder what exactly was so excessive on the father’s part. The answer is easy once you know what to look for— Love.

In the eyes of the father, love is demonstrated in his grace and mercy toward his returned son (and also toward his older son, but that’s a whole post in and of itself).

The father’s love is absolutely excessive. It’s illogical and undeserved— it’s prodigal.

How often have we found ourselves in a foreign place, listening to rain on a strange roof, and longing for the warm embrace of home with the father?

But it’s in these moments that the father’s character is made perfect. Our weakness fades into his strength, and our selfish betrayal makes way for his faithfulness.

We are met on the road before we’ve even made it all the way home and clothed in the royal righteousness that only Jesus can robe us with.

This is why I feel such a kinship with these words from Faulkner. Because time after time, Jesus has shown me just how prodigal, how excessive, his love truly is for me.

I did write the song and released a living room demo several years ago. I’m currently working on a more polished version I hope to be able to share with everyone soon.

But for now…

Whatever strange roof you find yourself under…

Whatever foreign country you feel lost in…

Know that there is a home for you in the Kingdom of Heaven. In the house of the one whose grace and mercy know no end. In the warm embrace of the father who has made us co-heirs with his son, Jesus.

It is here that we find our home.