I thought He would ask where I had been.
Why I wandered.
Why I doubted.
Why I stayed away so long.
I thought He would list my failures, replay my sins, remind me of every moment I chose my own way over His.
But He didn’t.
There was no interrogation.
No cold shoulder.
No “I told you so.”
Just open arms.
The kind of embrace that silences shame.
The kind that steadies a trembling heart.
The kind that says, “You’re home.”
He wasn’t focused on my past, He was focused on my return. He wasn’t counting my mistakes, He was celebrating my surrender. He wasn’t measuring my worthiness, He was pouring out mercy.
That’s the heart of our Father.
We expect punishment.
He gives restoration.
We expect distance.
He draws near.
We expect disappointment.
He gives delight.
There is something deeply healing about knowing that when you run back to God, you don’t meet a lecture—you meet love.
A love that doesn’t excuse sin, but overcomes it.
A love that doesn’t ignore your brokenness, but binds it.
A love that doesn’t shame your weakness, but strengthens it.
Maybe you’ve been far.
Maybe you’ve been numb.
Maybe you’ve been carrying guilt so heavy it convinced you to stay away.
Come back anyway.
Because He is not standing with crossed arms.
He is standing with nail-scarred hands open wide.
And when you finally fall into them, you’ll realize this truth: He was never waiting to condemn you. He was simply waiting to hold you again.
© Salt & Light
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