Chapter 2G

The Machine Shop Owner’s Son
There once was a hardworking man who owned a small family-run machine shop. One day his youngest son came to him with a big idea.

“Dad, hey I know that you’ve invested your life in building this business, and you’ve been talking about handing it over to us kids when you retire. Well, if it’s cool with you, could you cut me a check for the amount you think my part of the shop will be worth when you retire — Today? (I don’t know about you, but that wouldn’t have gone over big with my dad)

After thinking it through, the dad went to the bank, emptied out his 401K and took out a small loan on the business. Then handed it over to his youngest son. (Nope, can’t relate to that part of the story either.)

The next day, everybody showed up for work as usual — except for the youngest son. Vegas was calling. And after three weeks of living large… every… penny… was… gone.

The son hit rock bottom. The instant friends he found when he was loaded disappeared. He was embarrassed, ashamed and ticked at himself. The small fortune that his father earned over a lifetime was gone.

What to do? Go home? Never! So, instead he takes a job cleaning rooms at a rent-by-the hour motel off the strip. This is not the man his father raised him to be — and the son knew it. (Yeah, I guess you’d call this rock bottom.)

As much as he hated to do it, he knew he had to go home — and face his dad. He thought of all of the guys in the shop who had rough pasts — addiction… violence… abuse… prison… His dad took those guys in, gave them a fresh start and helped them turn their lives around. Maybe his dad would do the same for him. So, he grifted tourists for enough dough to buy a bus ticket and headed home.

All the way home he rehearsed what he was going to say to his dad. “Dad, there aren’t words for how bad I feel. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve to be called your son. I’m at the bottom. I need a job. I know you are a good boss with a big heart. I’ll do the jobs nobody else will do. I’ll work hard to pay you back.”

His buddy picked him up from the bus station and drove him to his family’s shop. Head down, he walked in the front doors, past the front desk unnoticed and slowly made his way back to the rear of the shop where his dad worked. As he passed the rows of lathes, presses, C&C machines, raw materials, parts bins… each man looked up to see him walk by — a shadow of the boss they use to report to. They knew what he did. Nobody knew what to say. So they let him keep walking.

While he was still 100 yards away, his dad caught him out of the corner of his eye. “He’s back,” he murmured under his breath. Without hesitation, he dropped the part he was machining and walked quickly in the direction of his son (Running isn’t allowed in the shop). His dad was a big guy, seeing him closing quickly was scarier than the son had imagined.

Finally, face-to-face, the son began the speech he rehearsed. “Dad, there aren’t words to — ”

“Stop!” his dad responded. He took a step back and looked beyond his skinny, greasy, yellow-skinned appearance, slept-in clothes and finished, “Welcome Home Son.”

“But dad, I totally” — the son groveled.

“Yeah, I know… I heard… I’m not happy about any of it… but you’re my son. I love you. And I can help you get back on your feet — If you want me to.”

That wasn’t the response the son expected. None of his rehearsed words seemed relevant anymore. He mouthed, “Yes” and humbly nodded his head

Smiling the dad grabbed his son by the shoulders he laughed and shouted in a gruff shop foreman’s voice, “Fellas! My son’s home! And do I have big plans for this boy!”

BOTTOM LINE… Just like in the story…
God is Waiting For YOU to Come Home — back to His Shop

God (our Father) has given each of us the freedom to follow his plan — or to make up our own. The Bible says that we ALL chose our own. In the 53rd Chapter, verse six of the Book of Isaiah, the Bible put it like this:

“We all, like sheep have gone a stray, each of us choosing to go our own way…”
I’m guessing every one of us can relate.