The Man Who Came Home

I used to think that coming home meant walking through a door, Returning to the life and love I had abandoned years before. As though the miles between us were the only thing to cross, As though arriving could restore the years my choices cost. But homecoming is deeper than reclaiming what I knew— It means returning to the light and finally telling truth. The boy who ran cannot demand the place he left alone. Christ must raise a different man—the man who can come home. I’m not coming back to take. I’m not coming back to claim. I’m coming out of hiding With repentance in my name. The man who came home Didn’t come to take control. He came with open hands And truth inside his soul. He came to bear the burden That he left you both to hold. The boy who ran was frightened— But the man came home. He seeks restoration without choosing its design, Trusting God to shape the future in His purpose and His time. He searches for the answers buried underneath the pain, Not to manufacture reasons or escape deserved blame. He seeks to tell the truth when every word exposes shame, When honesty brings consequence instead of clearing his name. He does not call returning home a right that he has earned— He comes prepared to listen, own the wreckage, and still learn. Seek restoration— Not control. Seek every answer— Search the soul. Speak only truth— Whatever the cost. Coming home means Facing what was lost. Father, I can call this shelter, But without her, it feels bare. Every room becomes an echo Of the heart that isn’t there. Home has always been her presence— Not the walls surrounding me. And no language about healing Makes her absence cease to be. I will not make that emptiness A demand she must fulfill. I will not call my longing love If it violates her will. But I will tell You honestly: Without her, home feels gone. So meet me in these empty rooms And teach my heart to carry on. Give me peace within the emptiness, Not something in her place. Give me peace that lets me miss her Without running from Your grace. Give me peace that does not silence Every prayer that she comes home. Give me peace enough to stay here When I have to stand alone. The man who came home Didn’t come to take control. He came with open hands And truth inside his soul. He came to seek restoration, Answers only You can show. He came to live in peace— The man who finally came home. I will not run from empty space. I will not hide or numb the ache. I will not build another lie. I will not run or justify. I still pray for restoration. I still love her as I roam. But until You write what happens next— Give peace to the man who came home.