Come Home (poem)

Come home, though your face is dirty, though you smell like trash;

Come home, though you’ve got nothing left.

Come home, make the turn, the journey may be long,

But come home and find the Father’s arms open wide.

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Come home, and see that you are accepted;

No judgement, no condemnation, you still belong.

Come home to your Father’s house and we’ll throw you a party;

Know that you are loved, you are not dirty.

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Come home and feast, know who you are;

You are a son, not a slave, close to the Father’s heart.

It’s not earned its given, so freely receive,

Its underserved but still, come home and feast.