I read this morning of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15. The story reminded me of a conversation I had some time ago with a woman in her 60’s. She told me God would never forgive her. “You don’t know what I’ve done,” she said. I looked into her eyes and told her, “Yes, I do know what you’ve done.” Shock spread across her face. “I don’t know specifically what it was, but with the remorse you feel, I know it was something dreadful. Shameful. Condemnatory.” I added, “I know how you feel because I have also felt dread and shame about my own sins.” Then I reminded her of Jesus’ story of the Prodigal Son. I paraphrased it for her, but you can read the text here: https://tinyurl.com/yyst7xdn I also reminded her of St. Paul who had the blood of Christian men and women dripping from his hands as he rode off to Damascus to decimate the believers there. You can read his testimony at this link: https://tinyurl.com/y23eek4c And so I urged the remorseful woman – as I now urge everyone reading this who has ever thought God would not forgive whatever it is they’ve done – I urged her to return to her Father in heaven. As with the Prodigal, her heavenly Father right now scans the horizon, waiting to catch so much as a glimpse of her coming home. When He sees her, He will run to meet her, dress her in the best clothes, and have a long-overdue celebration for the one who was once lost, but is now found. Who was dead, but is now alive. Come, you who have read this far. Oh, won't you come home now?