Come Home

“After thirty years I’ve become my fears.
I’ve become the kind of man I’ve always hated.
I am pulled apart, and my swollen heart
Has flipped out of the pan into the fire.
I am in love insane with a sense of shame
that I threw stones at the condemned and now I’m slated.

And I don’t believe you’re all I’ll ever need.
And I need to feel that you’re not holding me.
But the way I feel just makes me want to scream.
Come home, Come home, Come home
Come home, Come home, Come home
Come home, Come home, Come home”.

From “Come Home” by James.


I tend to write a lot about journeying through life.  We are a disparate generation and so nomadic at times.  Many of us have moved around as we grew up.  Many of us left home to study and had our first real sense of freedom.  We have nostalgic feelings for those times and places and, even then, many of us only spent term time in those cities.  We moved on to wherever the job opportunities were and often we relocate due to employment.  We rarely return to where our family trees were rooted and we wonder why we find it hard to belong?

Sometimes there comes a point to put our roots down.  To soak things up and get the nutrients we need to really contribute to life.

Or as Karl said on Sunday, “If you’ve got the fruit, you’ve got the root”.

The one story that has stuck with me more than any other this year has been that of the Prodigal Son.  It’s one of the most famous stories in the Bible.  Yet, on several occasions and in several places I have been reminded not so much of the Prodigal, but of the tale of the older brother.  Maybe it’s because I am an older brother, but something has resonated and struck a chord with me.

Maybe like the older brother I have spent my time staying close to the Father’s house and busying myself with the Father’s business.  Those may not necessarily be bad things, but the older brother neglected his role of being a mediator – of going and looking for, redeeming and saving that which was lost.  He failed to bring his sibling back from the far land.

I don’t know if the far land is metaphorical, spiritual or geographical.  Maybe it’s a combination of those attributes?  Maybe my focus, whilst well intentioned, hasn’t always been where it should be?  Who is my brother?

Whilst at the Tubestation in Cornwall the other week I came across a great photo of a typical sign outside a church.  The words, however, were atypical:

“When the Father’s house is filled with the Father’s love the prodigals will come home”.


4 Responses to “Come Home”

  1. 1 lindsay November 19, 2009 at 4:10 pm

    Great post! Very challenging…I know in the past I have certainly focussed on being busy in the house rather than helping to bring lost family home.
    Great news about the baby too! We’re expecting our first in April…seems the mbc baby boom will be continuing through spring!

  2. 2 thestatethatiamin November 19, 2009 at 11:25 pm

    Thanks for the comment and welcome to the blog. Congratulations to you guys too, looks like we could be spending some time together next year as we trade stories and experiences and cheer on the next generation of God’s extended family.

  3. 3 Shaznay November 20, 2009 at 11:38 am

    I’m just thankful God gave me the bestest brother in the whole wide world – I love you bruv!

  4. 4 thestatethatiamin November 20, 2009 at 12:38 pm

    Thanks Sis’.

    I am all too aware that I’ve not always been the bestest brother in the world! Please don’t interpret that post as suggesting you are “lost” – I think I’ve maybe just come short in my responsibilities to various folks at various times. I know this last year has involved some of the toughest decisions of your life and I long for you to feel rooted, established, fed, nourished and belonging to a true community of believers more than anything in the world.

    Why do you think Douglas Coupland’s “Hey, Nostradamus!” is my favourite book?



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"The priest in the booth had a photographic memory for all he had heard. He took all of my sins and he wrote a pocket novel called "The State That I'm In"". From "The State I Am In" by Belle and Sebastian
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