My Child’s Wandering Heart and My Father’s Never-Ending Love

A Gracious Hand

I watched the minutes tick by as time seemed to move in slow motion. Surrounded by bare white walls and the stench of shame, I sat alone in a hospital room that felt as empty as I did.

For years, my hurting and wandering heart had led me far from home, far from the guidance and love of my parents, and far from the wisdom and protection of my Heavenly Father. Much like the parable of the prodigal son, my heart had been lured by the promises of the world, the independence I longed for, and the happiness that I was determined to find by proving my worth to those around me.

The praise of others, the successes I accrued, and the temporary pleasures satisfied for a time, but the further I wandered, the more it took to fill the pit of emptiness growing within me.

Gradually, the shiny things of the world grew dull. What used to taste sweet turned bitter. And my sense of worth shifted with the winds of how others viewed me (or at least my perspective of it). My endless striving for approval, the longing to be filled with something lasting, and the battle between flesh and spirit became more than I could bear.

And it landed me in the pediatric psych ward of the hospital.

I had hit rock bottom—a place of utter desperation. And by God’s grace, he met me in that place of desperation and drew my heart into the never-ending love, forgiveness, and compassion he had been wooing me with all along but that I’d been too deaf to hear.

Finally, after years of wandering, my Heavenly Father had led me back to him in repentance—the place where I truly belonged.

Parenting Wandering Hearts

Now that I’m a parent, I’m reminded of my past when I see my children’s tendency to search for their worth and happiness in themselves and the world around them. And if you’re a parent, you’ve likely seen that natural tendency in your children to wander (or run!) from what God says is best—even if the nature of it looks different with each child.

The reality is, just like the prodigal son, our hearts are prone to search for something more than what God has already promised. Not only are our children born into a world that rejects the God who created it, but we all naturally desire to be self-sufficient and independent from authority and anything that might keep us from what we perceive as true happiness. But underneath it all is often a misdirected desire to be loved, valued, satisfied, and happy apart from the One who created and knows us.

For that reason, I’m thankful God’s word isn’t silent on this topic. Specifically, the account of the prodigal son is a relatable one to each of us. If you aren’t familiar with the story, I encourage you to read Luke 15:11–32 with your children.

Not only is this story timeless because it gets to the heart of each one of us, but it can be helpful to discuss with our children what the younger brother may have left home in search of. What might have drawn him away from his father and toward the world? How might they feel a similar pull? Much like Jesus’s use of parables to teach us deep spiritual truths, this story can be a launching point for conversation as we help our children evaluate the heart behind their thoughts, feelings, and choices.

Underneath it all is often a misdirected desire to be loved, valued, satisfied, and happy apart from the One who created and knows us.

The Motive Beneath the Action

The truth is, the very air our children breathe in this culture is saturated with messages such as, What makes you special and unique? What makes you lovable? Happiness lies within immediate gratification. Boundaries and rules are only keeping you from what you really deserve. And those messages often lead children to believe that they need to be good enough, fit in, make an “identity” for themselves, and satisfy the deep longing of their soul with anything that will temporarily satisfy.

And so, like each brother in the parable of the prodigal son, our children’s actions are often mixed with a subtle motivation of prideful self-confidence and/or a desire to feel loved, valued, and satisfied by what they do, what they have, and how good, talented, or accepted they are by those around them. Eventually, that illusion proves to be just that—an illusion that deceives and draws them away from the true joy, satisfaction, and security found in a relationship with their Heavenly Father.

As parents, we can all relate to the struggle. Therefore, we have an opportunity to draw near to our children with both grace and truth as an example of our compassionate Father, knowing that we too are prone to search for our self-worth and happiness in this world.

How might that look practically?

Consider an instance where your child gets caught cheating on a test at school. Our knee-jerk reaction is often to feel disappointed and even shocked by it. But when we aim to know their heart, rather than just respond to the action, it becomes a teaching moment. Instead of, “How could you do such a thing?” we could ask, “Why do you think you felt the need to cheat on that test? Did you think you’d disappoint us, or are you afraid to fail or make mistakes? Ultimately, what were you believing about yourself, others, and God that led to that choice?”

After helping them examine their heart motives, we can explain that our choices always have consequences, but then invite them into the freeing gift of repentance, reminding them that God is always ready to receive a heart of repentance with grace and forgiveness, just like the father in the prodigal son.

When we ask our children questions to draw their hearts to the surface, rather than just address the action, we teach them to examine where sin may be stemming from unbelief, a wrong belief, insecurity, pride, or fear. It doesn’t excuse the sin, but it can give them insight into how their choices, thoughts, and attitudes often grow out of a desire to find security, happiness, and worth in the world, rather than their identity and worth already declared by God through Jesus.

I’ll be the first to admit that, as parents, it’s far too easy to have a knee-jerk reaction to our children’s sinful or foolish choices—especially when they’re ongoing. Or we can make the mistake of assuming our compliant child is spiritually healthy because they’re not as outwardly rebellious. But Proverbs 20:5 says that “the purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.” We serve our children well when we help them discern the heart’s motives underneath the surface of their thoughts and actions.

How can we be parents of insight that teach our kids to become children of insight? By asking questions, giving space for emotions that we (and often they) don’t fully understand yet, and teaching them to use Scripture to convict, comfort, encourage, and draw out the deep waters of the heart. And the parable of the prodigal son is a great place to start, providing our children with a flyover view of the natural human heart. But more than anything, it gives them a beautiful picture of their Heavenly Father’s never-ending love—even to wandering, lost, and rebellious children like we all once were.

A Reflection of Our Father’s Never-Ending Love

You, as a parent, most likely know your child better than anyone. But even still, it’s impossible to fully know your child’s heart. But there’s one who does. And we have the privilege of seeking that wisdom and insight through prayer as we strive to raise our children in this complex world. Although we’ll fall short, we have the privilege of being a reflection of our Heavenly Father to our children. We can pray for their salvation, allow them the space to make mistakes and learn from them, teach them to discern the thoughts and beliefs beneath their choices, and be ready to receive them with grace and forgiveness when they come in repentance.

But in the end, our children’s lives and hearts rest in the trustworthy hands of their Heavenly Father, not our own. Like my painful prodigal journey, God had a plan of redemption in my life, despite how far I had wandered from home; despite how dark it looked for a time; and despite how lost I appeared.

Friends, God is a God of the impossible. He can bring a dead heart to life, heal what is broken, forgive the unforgivable, give strength to the weary, and bring the prodigal home. Be encouraged, for whether your child is two or twenty, they are never beyond the reach of the gracious, compassionate, forgiving, and redeeming love of our Heavenly Father.

Sarah Walton is the author of The Long Road Home: A Tale of Two Sons and a Father’s Never-Ending Love.

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