Imagine if
the Parable of the Prodigal Son
ended with the father
not caring at all.
Like the poor boy
finally recognizes
his spirit is dying
and goes through all this effort
to reclaim
a better life
and instead of seeing his father
waiting in the fields
and running to the him,
he finds him in the doorway
looking down, saying
Oh. It’s you.

Yeah, prayer feels like that sometimes,
but still we pray on.