In 1981 I was born into a loving Christian family. It took me years to emancipate myself from all the nurture and nourishment I received as a child, but after 19 of them, I finally broke free. Over to the US of A I went to be rid of my Past and to find my Self.
What I found, however, was that I didn't really like my Self at all.
It's a long story that involves much pain and circumstance, but halfway through the journey I found myself standing with the younger son in Jesus' famous parable, feeding the proverbial pigs and lamenting my pathetic place in the universe.
It was then that I determined to start on what I assumed would be a long and bumpy road back to God, bearing a large sackful of recriminations, trudging along lengthy stretches of self-flagellation and steep hill-climbs of penitence.
But, remarkably, I endured none of this.
What I found instead was a prodigiously gracious Father who treated me just as Jesus said He would...
I'm the Prodigal Jon.
My Father has welcomed me with scandalous grace, I love Him because He loved me first... but most of the time I find myself wandering between the pigsty and the party.