Once there was a young mother of three boys. Her deceased husband, the boy's father, transitioned to a better place after only 10 years of marriage. He left his young wife to raise a 4-year-old, a 7-year-old, and a 9-year-old. The mother was alone but she was determined to raise her little boys to be honorable men. They all attended weekly Sunday school, Sunday sermon, and Bible study sessions. The mother continued to work in corporate America to provide for her family.

Her home was filled with love, home cooked meals, study times, playdates, and frequent family visits from cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents. The men in their families became an iatrical part of their lives teaching the boys how to conduct themselves as men. The boys were very bright. As the years passed, they all excelled in every area of their studies and in all sports. Upon graduation, each son graduated with honors and received enough funding through academic and athletic scholarships to pay the total cost of their college tuitions. In their senior years of college, each son entered basketball, baseball, and football pro drafts with the representation of an uncle who was also a professional sports manager. Everyone signed with the team and sport of their choice: the oldest son basketball, the middle son football, and the youngest son baseball. After walking in their college graduations, each reported to training camp.

The oldest son struggled with the concept of pride and popularity. He fought hard not to lose the values that he held close to his heart. He was determined to remain humble and focused on the word of God and basketball. The middle son struggled with the sins that accompanied fast money and loose women. He was lonely so he desired to marry a woman who shared his faith and beliefs. He married his high school sweetheart. However, the third son fell prey to the traps of the world. He surrounded himself with loud people and wild parties filled with alcohol and drugs. He cut off every family member including his heartbroken mother who continued to pray for his salvation.

Eventually, his addiction to drugs and alcohol caused his baseball team to permanently drop him from the lineup. His conduct was so explosive that no other team would sign him. Soon he was homeless, heavy in debt, forgotten by so-called friends, strong out, depressed, and hopeless. Things seemed so bad that he was ashamed to call his brothers, uncles, or grandfathers. So he decided to sleep in his car in parking lots of parks and grocery stores. This lasted for months. Until finally, everything of value was gone. He had nothing else to pawn. Hungry and hungover, he searched the dumpster for food. He began to cry and pray. "Lord help me. I want to go home."

What he didn't know was that at that very moment, just as she had done for the last six months, his mother was also talking to God praying for his salvation. She cried to God pleading, "Lord send my baby home." Suddenly, lights from a vehicle approached slowly, stopped and parked. The doors opened. Ten men jumped out and ran towards him yelling. He was afraid and fell to the ground in defeat. He was frightened and knew that they could only intend to cause hurt or harm. Eyes closed, head bowed, heart full, he said. "Lord forgive me. I cannot live like this anymore."

Through his sobbing, he recognized a familiar voice. He opened his eyes and realized the ten men running towards him were his two brothers, uncles, and grandfathers. When they reached him they circled him and all fell to their knees and gave praise and thanks to God. He was alive. They rejoiced, covered him in kisses and hugs, wrapped him a blanket, and carried his weak frail body to the van. He smiled, and whispered, "thank you, Lord, for sending me home to my mother."

"I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." Luke 15:7