I Don't Smell Like Pigs

prod·i·gal (prŏd'ĭ-gəl) adj.
1. Rashly or wastefully extravagant
2. Giving or given in abundance; lavish or profuse

Guess I've always thought prodigal meant wayward or lost. When the Goober first heard the story of the prodigal son long ago in Sunday School, he thought the idea of 'wild living' was quite appealling. I myself am newly enamored with the story of the prodigal son. I have a fresh intrigue with the parables that Jesus told. Somehow, when we hear them over and over, we forget that they never happened. Fiction. There wasn't really a Good Samaritan. Or a Prodigal Son. Just Jesus telling stories to reveal the heart of God. And I think God has a prodigal heart. So that when I come crawling out of the pigpen, He responds with open arms and a kiss, and new clothes, and a big party with barbecued beef. For me. Talk about wastefully extravagant. Because when I come home, I don't smell like pigs to God. No matter what my 'older brother' thinks.

My real older brother once worked on a pig farm. When he came home he smelled like pigs.