Matt Carter - The Long Walk Home: Discovering the Fullness of Life in the Love of the Father

Copyright 2019 by Matt Carter

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America

978-1-4336-9064-8

Published by B&H Publishing Group

Nashville, Tennessee

Dewey Decimal Classification: 226.8

Subject Heading: PRODIGAL SON (PARABLE) / GOD-ATTRIBUTES / LOVE

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture is taken from the New American Standard Bible, copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation.

Also used: English Standard Version ( esv ), Text Edition: 2016. Copyright 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

Cover design and illustration by Matt Lehman. Photo Blue Collectors / Stocksy

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For my daughter Annie

I never could have fathomed the gift God gave me when He gave me you, my only daughter. I simply cannot imagine my life without you in it. You are one of those rare souls that has the perfect combination of beauty and strength. Youre a lover and a fighter for what is good and true and right. I love you with all my heart, and I pray that God uses your life to bring many prodigals home.

Introduction

Being a Christian is hard. There, I said it.

Some of you just read that first line and already are judging me.

Wait a minute, Matt; Jesus said, My yoke is easy and my burden is light (Matt. 11:30). And you know what? Thats true. When Im fully submitted to Jesus and walking well with Him, that verse makes all the sense in the world. My problem is that I have a pretty good track record of not consistently walking well with Jesus. Thats when it gets hard. Not because of Him but because of me. Maybe thats not your story, but its mine. Christianity is hard. Worth it, but hard.

Theres an old Willie Nelson song that I remember hearing in my dads pickup truck when I was a kid. Maybe you remember it. Its called My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.

Why, for old Willie, have his heroes always been cowboys? According to those lyrics, its probably not because of the horse or the hat or the gun but because cowboys live a life that makes sense to him. Willie lets us know that cowboys live a life of cold, lonely, nightmarish miseryand he can relate.

As a pastor for more than twenty years, Ive been preaching the Bible for a long timebeen reading it for even longer. And when it comes to my biblical heroes, the ones I have found over the years that I love the most, I love not because of the good theyve done but, honestly, because of how theyve failed. Why? Because I can relate.

Ive personally never called down fire from heaven and burned up the offerings of pagan worshippers like Elijah. Ive never parted the Red Sea or stood beside a burning bush like Moses. Ive never walked down into the valley of the shadow of death and killed a nine-foot-tall giant like David. But, like Peter, I have tried to walk on water (yes, I tried it once) and instead sank like a rock. Just like Peter, with my actions, I have denied Christmore than three times. Like Peter, Ive run from my calling and just gone fishing when I should have been standing firm and faithful. Ive always liked Peter, not because he wrote part of the Bible or because he was a stalwart of the early church, but because I can relate to this flawed, battered, and bruised man who desperately loved his Savior.

Theres another guy in the BibleI definitely wouldnt call him my hero, or really a hero at all, but I can certainly relate to him. You may have heard of this guy in some Sunday sermon or in a Sunday school flannel board lesson of your youth. People often refer to him as the prodigal son.

If you grew up in church, you know the story, but if you didnt, here are the basic plot points. A young man, the young man we come to know later as the prodigal, asks his dad for his inheritance, even though the old man is still alive. His father grants his wish, and the young man takes off to a foreign land where he squanders his inheritance and is forced to come home with his hat in his hand. Thats actually not how the story ends, but I dont want to get too far ahead of myself.

When I was younger, I couldnt relate to this guy. I thought, How stupid do you have to be to ask for, then take your entire inheritance and blow it being monumentally stupid? Who would do that to their father? What kind of idiot would make all those poor decisions?

But now, years later, unfortunately I can relate to the prodigal more than I ever thought possible in my youth.

The older I get, the more Im aware of my flaws, my sins, my failures, and my shortcomings. Theyre many and theyre ugly. Am I an abject failure as a believer? No. Are the words of the Scripture that say He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it (see Phil. 1:6) true? For me, yes they are. Do I see the fruit of the Spirit in me, and by the grace of God is it increasing? Yep. BUT I also know that as a man with a few years and few failures under his belt, I read the Bible differently now. I read it not as a young, self-righteous punk who thought he had the world figured out, but rather as a flawed, sometimes weary soul desperately searching Gods Word for every drop of grace that can be squeezed out of it.

If youre a Christian who has it all figured out, this book is not for you. If youre a Christian who has never really failed or fallen or struggled, there might be a better use for your time than reading these pages. But if like me, you love the Lord, but at times throughout your life you find yourself weary and broken, confused and questioningmaybe even hanging on by a threadthen this book is for you.

No matter how weary you are or how far youve fallen, your Fathers love for you is greater than your wildest imagination. I wrote this book partly as therapy for myself and partly as a guide for people like us.

And hopefully it will guide you back into the arms of a loving Dadmaybe not the dad you had but the one you always longed fora Dad who is ready to welcome you home, wipe you clean, and call you His beloved son or daughter.

Chapter 1

The Problem

One of my earliest memories was that of food and a great woman. It was 4:00 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning in 1978, and I was five years old. Dreary eyed and yawning, I got out of bed to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. As I fumbled through the dark, I was surprised to hear noise coming from the kitchen that early in the morning. I walked farther down the hallway, shuffling my footie pajamas across the old hardwood floor, hoping I had simply imagined the sound.

Bang!

There it was again. My heart beat faster, and I was consumed by that sense of dread and helplessness only a five-year-old can feel in the dark. But then the smell hit me. Corn bread. Yesit was the sweet smell of corn bread, mixed together with the aroma of onion and sage. Your mind is a powerful thing, and Ive read somewhere that your sense of smell triggers the most powerful memories. To this day, every Thanksgiving when I smell corn bread, onions, and sage, I am transported back to that dark hallway, shuffling along in my footie pajamas.

My little stomach immediately came alive and began to rumble. I followed the smells and the sounds until I turned the corner from the hallway into the kitchen. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw hermy great-grandmother. I instantly realized what was making all that racket. She was only five feet tall, and she was standing on her toes, reaching into a cabinet to grab a bowl she couldnt quite reach, banging pots against one another in the process. The smells? She was preparing corn bread stuffing that would soon join the yet-uncooked turkey in the oven. I remember thinking something in that moment that has stuck with me ever since: My great-grandmother is up at four in the morning to cook for me. She really must love me. And oh, she did. My great-grandmother was crazy about me. She proved it time and time again, and I miss her.