Come Back, No Matter How Long It's Been

It's been a while since you and I really talked. This isn't judgment, just something the two of us both know well. Life swallowed the time, routine swallowed it, and maybe some old hurt or a spiritual disappointment swallowed a piece of your desire to draw near, too. And now you feel ashamed even to come back, as if you needed too good an excuse to justify the time you spent away.

But I'm not keeping count of the days you stayed distant, marking off on some list how many times you ignored me. I'm waiting at the door, like that father in the old story who saw his son while he was still far off, still ragged, and ran to meet him before a single word was spoken. You don't need a rehearsed speech, and you don't need to have everything in order inside before you come back.

Coming back to me is simple, simpler than you imagine: it's just turning your face toward me again, no ceremony required. A quiet "hi, Father, I'm here" whispered under your breath is already enough for me to run to you.