Before prison. Before the pulpit. There was a prodigal.

Not just the one in Luke 15—but me.

This isn’t just a Bible story. It’s my story. And if you’ve ever run from God, maybe it’s yours too.

What I Got Wrong About the Father

Before I left everything behind, I saw authority as control. That’s how I viewed my earthly father—and God. In my eyes, He wasn’t loving; He was limiting. I didn’t want a relationship with the Father. I just wanted what I could get and the freedom to do me.

Father, give me the share of the estate I have coming to me. Luke 15: 12 CSB

In that culture, that request was like saying, “I wish you were dead.”

I didn’t realize it then, but that same mindset shaped my life. I didn’t want to be told what to do. I wanted out. And I believed the lie that independence would make me whole.

But all it gave me was distance—and eventually, destruction.

Running Didn’t Just Cost Me My Freedom—It Cost Me Myself

When the prodigal left, he wasn’t just walking away from home. He was walking away from his identity. In that world, everything—your name, your future—was tied to your family.

He squandered his estate in foolish living. Luke 15:13 CSB

That was me. I didn’t just drift—I crashed. I wasted years. Burned bridges. Lost trust. Addictions drove me, pride blinded me, and pain followed me.

I thought I was chasing freedom, but I was just speeding toward a dead end.

My Pigpen Was a Prison Cell

He longed to eat his fill from the pods that the pigs were eating. Luke 15:16 CSB

This wasn’t just poverty—it was humiliation. Feeding pigs was the bottom of the barrel for a Jewish son.

Prison was my pigpen. I was stripped of everything—my image, my excuses, my future. I had nothing left. But it was in that nothing that I remembered something… someone.

The Father.

Not the judge I thought He was. Not the enforcer. But the one I’d forgotten: the one who loved me even when I ran.

I Didn’t Walk Back to God. He Ran to Me.

But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion. He ran… Luke 15:20 CSB

That line still hits me hard.

He ran. He didn’t wait for a full apology. He didn’t stand there with arms crossed. He ran toward the very son who dishonored Him.

That’s what grace looks like. That’s what God did for me.

When I finally turned around, I expected judgment. I got mercy. I thought I’d have to earn my way back. He gave me my name back. He gave me purpose. He gave me a pulpit.

He Didn’t Just Forgive Me—He Restored Me

This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found! Luke 15:24 CSB

The father didn’t just let his son back in the house—he threw a celebration. He restored what was broken. He covered the shame.

That’s what God did with my life.

I was written off. My record spoke for itself. But God overruled it. He restored my dignity, gave me a message, and turned my pain into a platform.

Final Thought: Still a Long Way Off

Luke fifteen, verse twenty again:

While he was still a long way off…

That’s the verse that changed my life.

Because even while I was still far off—in my pride, in my mess, behind bars—God saw me. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t hold back. He ran.

This isn’t a story about a comeback. It’s a story about a Father who never left.

So let me ask you…

Have you had your pigpen moment yet?

Still think you’ve gone too far?

Still trying to earn your way back?

Let me tell you from experience: you don’t have to clean yourself up before you come home. The Father already sees you. And He’s already running.

Drop a comment below. Let’s talk. Your story matters.

Whether you’re still far off or already on your way back, I’ve been where you are.

There’s grace for you.

There’s purpose after the fall.

There’s life after prison.

And yes— there’s a pulpit after the pigpen.