Brian Welch seemed to have everything the world tells us we should chase—money, fame, success. As the lead guitarist of the heavy-metal band Korn, Brian found himself at the pinnacle of stardom, playing to sold-out crowds, experiencing fame most of us can barely imagine. But beneath the glamorous surface, a silent battle was raging in his soul. In the powerful documentary “Loud Krazy Love,” Brian describes the darkness that enveloped him—the drugs, the despair, and the crushing emptiness.
At his lowest point, Brian knew exactly what he needed to do: he needed to go home. Not to his physical home, but home spiritually, emotionally, back to God. Yet knowing what to do was not the hardest part. The hardest part was taking that first step.
Imagine his torment—the questions that must have plagued him: “What will my bandmates say when I leave? How will this affect my career I worked so hard to build? Will my fans mock me for turning toward God? Can I even face my own family and friends, knowing how far I’ve fallen?” His fame had isolated him. His addiction had imprisoned him. His pride had paralyzed him.
Brian’s struggle echoes a part of the Prodigal Son’s story we seldom consider deeply enough—the terrifying difficulty of returning home. In Luke 15, we often reflect on how logical it was for the son to go back once he’d lost everything. Yet, how rarely do we ponder the agonizing hesitation he must have felt before taking that first step back toward his father. Think about his shame, guilt, and fear of rejection. Imagine his anxiety, rehearsing what he would say, envisioning judgmental glances from family and neighbors who knew about his choices and failures.
Isn’t this our story, too? Aren’t there times when we know exactly what the right choice is—yet we hesitate, frozen by fear of judgment, embarrassment, or rejection? Maybe it’s in your relationships, where pride has built walls that humility finds so difficult to tear down. Perhaps it’s a mistake you’ve made, and you’re afraid of admitting it, fearful of the reactions you’ll receive. Or maybe it’s your faith, feeling too far from God, wondering if He’ll really welcome you back after everything that’s happened.
Yet here lies the beauty of the prodigal story: All the prodigal son had to do was take that first, difficult step toward home—and when he did, he didn’t find judgment or rejection. He found a father who didn’t merely wait, but ran to him. A father who didn’t just accept him but embraced him, held him close, and walked him all the way home, step by step, back into healing, wholeness, and love.
And that’s exactly what Brian Welch experienced, too. When he finally made that first courageous move, God met him there, running toward him, taking him home to recovery, redemption, and peace.
Friends, no matter how heavy our hearts are today, or how far we have wandered, know this: God isn’t merely waiting for us to return. He’s ready to run toward us, embrace us, and walk with us each step of the way. Our first step is all it takes, and He will always be there to carry us home.