See Luke, chapter 15
it wasn’t until
I found myself begging
for the privilege
of feeding pigs
and saw
that they were a sight
far more precious
than I
in the eyes of their citizen
that I could see
how far I had fallen
in my own eyes:
desperate for husks
discarded by pigs
all my pearls squandered
my heart a famished wasteland
suddenly riches seemed so simple:
all I wanted was bread
a bed
a place to serve
and I could see that
what my Father had really given to me
couldn’t be wasted
hadn’t run out
but lay hidden
a well-spring within me
the journey home felt light
there was no need to rush
the rubble had been cleared
the way made plain
the look
in His eyes
confirmed
what I had already gleaned
arms wide open
air pulsating with song:
no end child
no end to this love
—Joni Overton-Jung
