The Lights
of Home
"Dear Daddy," said the daughter on her
graduation day.
"I'd like to have my
college fun. I want to go
away.
I
feel that I must find myself, be out there on my
own.
I'm
tired of always looking at the same old lights
of home.
So Daddy gave her money. She said, "I'm
finally free.
I've no one else to
think of now. At last I can be
me."
She'd told her folks, "Don't worry. Your
little girl is grown.
I don't need your
protection, or the smothering lights of
home."
The girl and her companions--she now had
many friends--
All partied on her
money. Why, she had lots to
spend!
Each day she slid more closely to the
dangerous twilight
zone,
Convinced that she could get along
without the "lights of
home."
Her bank account soon emptied. Her
friends all slunk away.
And next she had to
leave her suite, because she couldn't
pay.
She
huddled in the alleys then, where all the
street-bums roam.
But still she
wouldn't think about the glowing lights of
home.
She searched for some employment:
"Perhaps I'll 'walk the
streets'.
At
least I'd have a bed at night, and decent food
to eat."
Her
mind flicked to the story of a wasteful, wayward
son.
He
too had tired of seeing the same boring "lights
of home."
He squandered his inheritance on
wantonness and wine.
He sunk to lowest
levels: he lived among some
swine.
He
then came to his senses. "I need not die
alone."
He
hurried back to father, and the welcoming lights
of home.
The young girl's heart awakened. "Would
I be welcomed back?"
She turned and
headed homeward. Her steps she did not
slack.
Her
mind was on returning to that warm room of her
own.
Her
pace she quickened further when she saw the
lights of home.
“Oh Father,” said the daughter, when she
came up to the door.
“Forgive me, please,
for wandering. I deserve your love no
more.”
Her
father hugged her tightly. “I have prayed that
you would come.
You always will be
welcome to enjoy the lights of
home.”
Luke 15:
11-32
© 2001 Helen
Dowd
©used with
permission
