The Prodigal Son Had a Mama, Too

Most Christians are familiar with the story of the Prodigal Son – told by Jesus in Luke 15.  We know it is a true story, because Jesus said so. (“There was a man who had two sons . . . not “suppose there was . . . “) This family’s testimony of rebellion, consequences, repentance, forgiveness and restoration has served as the text for many a Sunday morning sermon – I’ve heard it taught from the dad’s perspective, the Prodigal’s, and even the faithful older brother’s. 

But it just dawned on me that the Prodigal Son had a Mama, too.

She is not mentioned in the text – we don’t know her name. But, being a mama too,  I believe I know a few things about her. She loved her boys. Both of them, just the way they were. She realized that, even though they shared the same genes and home environment, they were two very different young men.

Her first born was a hard worker, loyal, obedient, being groomed to inherit the family business and honor the family name. The younger, however, was a bit of a rebel – probably the kind of kid who asked “Why?” a thousand times a day.  He put the “terrible” in the terrible twos. He tested all the boundaries – got a whole lot more spankings than his older brother. He was the kind of person who was prone to learn things the hard way. Mama knew this when his little fingers were burned after he was told not to touch the oven, or as she patched the skinned knees after he was told not to climb past a certain tree limb. She prayed she would always be able to kiss his hurts and make them better, but, deep in her heart, she probably suspected that her baby boy’s life journey would be full of lessons learned in hard, painful ways.

So, what happened the day her younger son worked up the nerve to approach his dad – asking for his inheritance? Mama knew this would be a disaster – I’m sure she let Dad know he was crazy to even consider this (in a respectful, submissive way, of course). Mama knew that kid would get himself in all kinds of trouble with that money. He wasn’t ready for life in the fast lane – he still had so much growing up to do.

While Mama was thinking with her heart, Dad was thinking with his head. He knew that only hard lessons and painful consequences would make his boy a man. To everyone’s shock, Dad divvyed up the family fortune, and sent his son on his way. With half of his money, and all of his heart.

As Mama watched her baby leave, all she could do was weep and pray. He would not be calling home. She could not check up on his Facebook or Twitter. No skyping to make sure he was still in one piece.  In fact, she may never see him again.

All she could do was trust her son in the hands of the only One who loved him more than she did.

Even though he was now a stubborn, rebellious young man who needed to learn things the hard way, in her heart, he was still her little boy. How her arms must have ached to hold him, how she must have longed to hear his voice (even if it was bickering with his big brother). She probably even missed picking up his dirty clothes. That empty chair at the dinner table must have pierced her heart.  Did she sit on his bed and cry her heart out? Was he hungry? Was he safe? Where was he sleeping tonight? Does he remember how much I love him? Will I ever see him again?  Every night brought tears, every morning, hope that this would finally be the day. O, Lord, please take care of my baby boy. You are the Only One who can.

 I imagine Mama spent as much time on her knees as she did looking out the window – longing and praying for the day he would come home.

How long was the Prodigal Son gone? Weeks? Months? Years? We aren’t told – but it was long enough for him to blow through a substantial amount of money, meet and run with the wrong crowd, wallow with the pigs and get into who-knows-what kind of trouble. And, as strong-willed as I imagine that fella was, we don’t know exactly how long he held out before “he came to his senses” (Luke 15:17) . This mama knows that every sleepless night seemed like an eternity to his praying parents.

But they never gave up on him. I can just imagine the evenings that Dad tried to comfort his weeping, praying wife, gently guiding her away from the window where she kept watch.

But, Dad knew how she felt, because he was watching for him, too. There had been an empty chair at the dinner table for way too long.

Jesus said that “while he was still a long way off, his father saw him, felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.”

“Still a long way off.” Oh, yeah, Dad was looking. He was out working, but he was always keeping one eye peeled for that wayward son. When he spotted a figure approaching from far in the distance, he recognized him immediately.  His instant response, to run – not walk -  toward the boy he loved.

Yes, he was “still a long way off” geographically speaking, but also emotionally and spiritually. There were fences that needed mending, apologies to be extended and accepted, repentance to be completed. A family to be restored.  

But both parties were moving in the right direction – toward one another. And they couldn’t embrace fast enough.

And just wait until Mama got a hold of him.

Pig stink still on his clothes, in desperate need of a bath, a haircut and a shave. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Penniless.  A lesson that cost a whole lot of money and even more tears. But, oh, so worth it.

Their son was home. Their boy was now a man.