Some of you who are reading this are praying for the return of a “prodigal spouse.”
I was one once, you know? A prodigal spouse. A wanderer. And now, it humbles me to wash the feet of those who are waiting in this wilderness.
4th of July weekend, 1999. I started coming clean. After wallowing in the slop and stench of my sin for several years, something in me…no…SomeOne in me sat up and looked around,
Because someone like you was praying for me.
I saw my sin. Muddy. Thick.
And, while I still don’t really know how God raised me up from that mire and set my feet running toward home, He did.