The Shame of Coming Home

I know what's keeping you from going back: it isn't a lack of desire, it's shame. You imagine the stares, the comments, the silent judgment of those who will remember exactly what you did before you left. And that shame is so great that it seems easier to stay away than to face the road back.

The son in my story thought the very same thing. He rehearsed an entire speech, even prepared himself to be treated as a servant, no longer as a son, because he believed he had lost that right. But before he even finished speaking, the father had already sent for the finest robe and ordered the feast to be prepared.

Shame lies to you, telling you the return will be worse than it really will be. I'm not waiting for you with my arms crossed, demanding explanations. I'm waiting for you with the feast already prepared. Don't let shame decide for you what only the courage to return can truly resolve.