“It’s time to get the children home.“
Two years ago, the Lord impressed this phrase on my heart. Since then, He has confirmed His Word over and over again—through my time in the Word, my quiet time, my prayer time—The hour is coming. It’s getting late. Tell my children to come home.
The words have resonated deeply in my spirit because there’s no denying this world can be dark. In Judges, one of the darkest times in history came because, as the writer said, “Everyone did what was right in their own eyes.” I don’t know a better way to describe our society today, and there’s a lot of fear, anxiety, and pain that comes with that kind of moral and spiritual decline.
But the Father’s house is filled with light and joy.
I was 17 the first time I stayed out past my curfew. When my friends dropped me off, I remember seeing the porch light on and thinking, “Oh, no. That light means my parents are awake and aware that I am not where I’m supposed to be.” As I was lamenting about my imminent death-by-lecture to my friends, one of them laughed, shook her head, and said, “You know, it’s been a long time since someone left a porch light on for me.”
I have since come to realize what that porch light truly represented. That light told me that no matter how late it was, no matter how dark it was, and no matter how long I had been away—someone was waiting for me to come back home. There was a place prepared for me. That light was a beacon to illuminate my path back home.
So, I think of that porch light every time my spirit reminds me: “It’s time to get the children home.”
In John 8:12, Jesus says: “I am the light of the world.” And then, in John 14:2: “In my Father’s house, there are many rooms. And I am going to prepare a place for you.” And how did the father greet the prodigal son when he came back home? Not with a lecture, but with the open arms of a loving father.
How many of us know that the hour is coming? It’s getting late. It’s getting dark.
Every day we pass by people—at the gas station, when we go to work, in the drive-through line—who are carrying heavy burdens, or dealing with crippling anxiety, depression, or grief.
Maybe you are the one hurting, in a season that feels never-ending. Maybe you are the one saying, “It’s been a long time since someone left a porch light on for me.”
If so, I pray these words will resonate in your spirit:
It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been away, or how dark your night has been. The Father says, “My light is on. Come home.”