A prayer for your prodigal by Chelsea de Mateus, read by Leah Martin.

For this son of mine was dead and is alive again, he was lost and is found.

So they began to celebrate.

Luke 1524.

I write this from a place of once being a prodigal daughter.

Raised in the church from a young age, I knew the way I should go, but the world had a firm grip on me.

I confused chaos for fun and disobedience for being a confident girl.

My heart was emotionally thrown to and fro from choices I made that did nothing but leave me broken. I longed to feel whole, but I couldn't

find wholeness. I was blind to needing Jesus.

My mom had her morning routine of sitting in the front room on the couch each and every morning

in prayer.

She'd done this for years, but as the years went on, I know her prayers changed.

As I began wandering the world, she became my frontline prayer warrior.

She gave at least one hour of her prayer time each morning

dedicated specifically for me to know the Lord. As years went on, her days relaced with worry and wonder of how God was going to stop me in my tracks and turn my life around for him.

She wrestled, she invited others to pray, and she never gave up on me coming to know Jesus.

Her powerful prayers of fighting for me consisted of this, Lord, I don't know how you'll do it.

Please don't let it be too harsh, but let it be enough to get her attention.

My mom's prayers and the countless prayers of others who stood alongside her to pray, couldn't

have imagined in their wildest dreams what God was going to do with me, how he'd get my attention, and then what he'd call me to do in my life.

But his grace and their powerful prayers made the most beautiful backdrop to the testimony God

has given me. Prayer, trust, and his timing led me to the moment I came to the end of myself and surrendered my life to him.

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