Let’s be honest—change is messy. Ever related to the Prodigal Son?

In Luke 15, Jesus tells a story that feels ripped from a family group chat. A kid cashes in his inheritance, blows it all on bad decisions, and ends up so broke he’s literally jealous of pig slop. But here’s the kicker: When he finally drags himself home, shame clinging to him like mud, his dad doesn’t just open the door—he sprints down the road. No interrogation. No “I told you so.” Just a bear hug, a party, and a ring slipped onto his grimy finger.

But here’s what haunts me: The kid changed. Not because he had to, but because he finally saw the truth: His old life was a dead end. Meanwhile, his older brother? He’s sulking in the yard, arms crossed, refusing to join the party. Jesus leaves us hanging: Will he change too?

Lent whispers the same question to us. Not just “What are you giving up?” but “Who are you becoming?”


Reflection for the Week:

  • When was your “Prodigal Son moment”—a season where you knew, deep down, it was time to turn the car around?
  • Where’s your inner “older brother”—clutching old grudges, routines, or that comfy cloak of resentment?

One of the things that I love about being Lutheran is our focus on grace. I like to define grace as “God’s love freely given.” It’s free, and it’s given. Not ours to earn, but it’s a gift. Sometimes though, grace hits you like a ton of bricks. For me, that happened when I was having some emotional problems when I was younger. and I had a person say to me, “You are like a cat stuck up in a tree waiting for someone to get you down. One day, you will be the person to get the cat down from the tree.” For me, that’s been one of the most gracious things someone has said to me. It was God saying, “You’re alright. This doesn’t define you.”


Try This:

Grab a pen and paper (yes, actual paper!). Write a letter to your past self—the one knee-deep in pig slop—or your future self—the one still scared to come home. Burn it, bury it in your garden, or tuck it under your mattress. Let it be a sacrament of what you’re ready to release… or embrace. Remember: Even a seed has to crack open to grow.


A Prayer to Carry You:


“God, You’re always cooking up something new. Uncurl our white-knuckled fists. Trade our resentment for awe, our fear for barefoot trust. Keep surprising us. Amen.”


Hymn Highlight:


Turn up “There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy” this week. The line “For the love of God is broader than the measures of the mind”? Pure fire. It’s the Prodigal Dad’s theme song—proof that mercy isn’t a math equation. It’s a flash flood.


Bottom Line:


Change isn’t about “fixing” yourself. It’s about letting God love you into a new shape. The Prodigal Son didn’t scrub himself clean before his dad hugged him. He just showed up, stink and all. The rest? That was his father’s doing.

This week, practice showing up—to God, to your people, to the parts of your heart you’ve locked in the basement. The rest? That’s grace’s job.

Copyright notice: Adapted by Travis Wilson from “All We Need: The Basics” © 2024 Barn Geese Worship. Used by permission.