Prodigal Son Luke 15 vs 11-32

When I think about the parables in Luke, especially the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11–32, I don’t just see a story, I see my story. I know what it’s like to run. To chase the thrill of the far country, thinking freedom was found in the darker corners of life. I know what it’s like to come to the end of myself, hungry not physically, but spiritually starving and wonder if the Father would still want me.

That’s where the Holy Spirit met me. Not in a grand moment, but in the quiet realization that I was lost and needed to come home. The parable says the son “came to himself” and I believe that’s the Spirit’s whisper. That gentle nudge that says, “You were made for more than this.”

What’s wild is how the Spirit doesn’t just convict, It illuminates. Suddenly, the parables aren’t just stories, they’re mirrors. I read about the woman lighting a lamp to find her lost coin (Luke 15:8–10), and I see the Spirit searching the dark corners of my heart. I hear about the yeast in the dough and in The Passover story (Luke 13:20–21, Exodus 12), and I feel the slow, quiet transformation happening in me, unseen but undeniable.

Even the mundane becomes sacred when the Spirit is involved. A robe, a ring, a fattened calf, ordinary things, but in the hands of the Father, they become symbols of restoration. That’s what The Spirit does. He takes our breakdown, our wandering, and breathes meaning into it. He turns our return into a celebration.

So when I teach or pray with others, especially addicts. I don’t just want them to hear the parables. I want them to feel the Spirit in them. To know that their story, no matter how far it’s wandered, is still being written. The Spirit is always ready to light the lamp, sweep the floor, and rejoice when they’re found. Because I’ve been the prodigal. And I’ve been found. And now, by grace, I get to help others hear the whisper that called me home.