Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Prodigal's place

we were talking about unfairness, and she tells me she chafes against the story of the prodigal son, that he gets all the attention while elder brother suffers.
i myself always related to that older brother, viewed her as a prodigal of sorts.
our stories start at the same places, but like true mirrors, we react oppositely. funny how it works that way, now, when we're bound tighter in our spiritual sisterhood than we ever were in flesh and blood growing up.
yes, that unruly son got his way, and felt the father's embrace. i cry tears at the grace of it all, and i want to stay humble to this understanding that she and i, we're different. there are many reasons to point fingers at a God who chooses, but all i see is the grace of being chosen. it's what i cling to in faithless times and weary seasons and hopeless winters. the grace goes down like whiskey, all choking and spreading warmth.
there is a place at the table for both of them, and both of us.
i wonder how i can share the awe of that with her, the unbelievable truth that his scarred hands will serve broken bread and wine, that he will hold out freshest white robes and slay the purest Lamb for us to eat?


Jodi said...

Keep doing what your doing...loving kindness.

Wandering On Purpose said...

"grace goes down like whiskey..."
"there is a place for both of them, both of us."
Sometimes I bristle at the prodigal story as well - understanding the side of the elder, and sometimes I stand amazed at the love of the father embracing the one who returns. And perhaps this is where my internal/spiritual struggle is - part proud and part prodigal.
Thanks for posting this and making me think.

Ostriches Look Funny said...

Have you read The Prodigal God by Tim Keller? I never realized how older brother-ish I can be until I read that.
It's so convicting, but in a good way.

Craig and Bethany said...

Oh Misty! Down like whiskey...

Your images are so vivid. Great writing.

Anonymous said...

still learning the grace part. But the down like whisky is one of my favorite lines EVER, and I'll take that nod...

deb said...

I love your writing, Misty.

and I'm with JoAnn in the older brother feelings.