Written by Jennifer Percell, volunteer with Iron Rose Sister Ministries in Missouri
“He hasn't texted in two years. She has convinced him that he doesn't need me. How can he just forget his own mom?”
“Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry, I know we are never supposed to give up, but I feel the same way. At least my girls still text but it's nothing like it used to be. We were so close and now we are strangers. Did your son have faith?”
“He led the youth group—he even planned to be a youth director. But she is not interested so he just quit.”
“Same with the girls—they were both so faithful—now they say my faith makes me unsafe! Don't they remember I was the one who taught them that family is their safe place and that I would love them no matter what?”
Sarah and I had this conversation every week. Our friendship had bonded over pain for our prodigal children. Her son's fiancé told him his family was toxic. Sarah had no idea why, and his betrayal of their relationship had left her broken. We tried to encourage each other but neither of us could see a path to reconciliation with our adult children. So many of our friends had similar stories; lonely mothers unable to navigate new definitions of relationship expectations.
I often ask God to answer my prayers with a story I could tell that would encourage others and glorify Him. I had no stories for Sarah because my own pain had clouded my hope. There was no way I could see that her son would change his heart. It seemed that the only kind thing would be to help Sarah accept a life without him, just as I was trying to resign myself to the new reality of the loss of my daughters’ faith and close friendship.
Two years passed; each week we shared tears, prayers, and sorrows. When one of us had a strong week, we would feel hopeful, but our tears were far more common. I wanted to be a faithful friend— the one who never gave up and always left her feeling comforted and sure of God's blessings, but I was not confident. I saw no solution for either of us—no way for the lost relationships to heal.
But God...
Sarah's smile was radiant as we talked last month. She showed me a picture so full of life and joy that I could not contain my tears. In the picture, she cradled a newborn grandson. Two more years had passed, years during which God had written a redemption story in Sarah's life: a story with chapters of tragedy, fear, timid efforts to connect, love that wouldn't quit trying, and open arms of forgiving welcome. Chapters no one expected. Chapters only God saw coming. The story concluded with Sarah's home and arms full again. Her son has a new love, forgiveness has been sought and given, and new life has come to this family. All of them are open to growing in faith. Hope now radiates in my friend Sarah.
Now as I share joy with Sarah, my own hope is revived. Just last week another mother who endured years of fear for her prodigal children shared the story God wrote in their lives and the reconciliation they are enjoying. It is so easy to see the pain around us, but sisters, we are also surrounded with redemption. Our God is the God of reconciliation who desires that all men come back to Him. As we share our pain, let us remember that all hope for resolution of that pain lies in a perfect, benevolent, Father who cares for our erring children even more than we do. Because of this, let us never give up praying for the souls of our loved ones.
Hear the words of living active faith from Romans 12, verses 11, 12, 15, and 21:
11. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.
12. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
15. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.
21. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (NIV)
Dear sisters, are you waiting for a dear prodigal to return, or are you a prodigal afraid you won't be welcomed home? Please remember what I have forgotten too many times—absolutely nothing is impossible in the hands of our Great God. He is the God of reconciliation, and right now, as you are waiting, He is writing a story of love just for you.