Lessons from the Father of the Prodigal Son
I’ve been reflecting on the story of the Prodigal Son—a familiar parable that, in this season of my life, feels deeply personal and painfully real.
As a mother, I now see that this wasn’t just a story of rebellion and return. It was also a story of letting go—of a parent’s heartache, silent prayers, and surrendered love.
That father in the Bible… he loved his son deeply. And yet, that son came to him, young and bold, demanding his inheritance. Perhaps he was rude. Perhaps he had become rebellious. He certainly wasn’t ready for the world he was about to step into.
But still, the father let him go—of course he must have guided him otherwise but the son wanted it his way.
He didn’t argue or show his anger and disappointed.
He didn’t chase after him.
He didn’t beg him to stay or protect him from the consequences of his choices.
He simply released him.
And he waited.
This part of the story often gets overlooked. We rush to the beautiful ending where the son returns and the father runs to embrace him. But we forget the long, agonizing middle—the waiting. The silence. The unknown. The father didn’t send servants to find his boy. He didn’t use his wealth or influence to fix the mess. No. He let the journey take its full course.
Why?
Because he knew that some lessons must be lived to be learned. And true return—real change—can’t be forced.
The Pain of a Parent Who Loves Deeply
As a mother, I now find myself in that same emotional space.
I’ve tried to guide. I’ve corrected, spoken, protected. But I’ve also seen rebellion, manipulation, and pushback. And my heart has ached.
There’s a part of me that wants to rescue—every time.
To clean up the mess. To shield my son from hard consequences.
But I’m realizing something powerful: love doesn’t always mean stepping in. Sometimes love means stepping back.
Letting go doesn’t mean you’ve failed as a parent.
It means you trust that what you’ve planted will grow—even if it has to grow through struggle.
It means believing that your prayers can reach where your hands no longer can.
What the Prodigal’s Father Teaches Us
This story has become more than a parable—it’s become a mirror. And here’s what it’s teaching me:
- Letting Go is Not Giving Up
It’s one of the most courageous forms of love. - Don’t Protect Them from Every Consequence
If we keep softening every blow, they may never grow stronger. - Wait with Hope, Not Fear
Your silence doesn’t mean absence. It means trust. - You Are Not God
You can’t live their life, fix every mistake, or carry their journey. You can only guide and then release. - They Must Want to Come Back
And when they do, the return is genuine. The transformation is deep. The heart is ready.
A Note to Fellow Parents
If you’re in this same space—torn between love and boundaries, grace and firmness, fear and faith—know that you are not alone. I see you. I am you.
There is strength in surrender.
There is wisdom in waiting.
There is power in prayer.
So today, like the father of the prodigal son, I choose to let go.
Not out of bitterness, but out of belief.
Belief that my child’s journey has purpose.
Belief that love will draw him back.
Belief that when he returns, he will be different—not because I forced it, but because life taught him what I couldn’t.
I will keep praying.
I will keep hoping.
And I will keep the door open.
Because sometimes, the most powerful thing a parent can do… is wait.
