family matters
every believer in their relationship with Christ will identify with the “Prodigal Son” parable; either as the younger son who squanders away his Father’s inheritance but is graciously and undeservedly welcomed home with open arms or the older son who is seemingly faithful and utterly self-righteous about it. when i was born-again three years ago, i felt like the younger son who realized how good he had it with his Father. though he returns feeling unworthy of His love and approval, he experienced immediate grace and acceptance. there’s no greater feeling than knowing you are loved even in your filth.
apart from this particular season in my life, i’d have to say i identify more with the older son. the son who remained with his Father and worked hard because that was his responsibility. he prides himself over how faithful and obedient he’s been all these years and completely resents the fact that even though his little brother essentially wasted dad’s money, he still gets dad’s best.
my brother and i haven’t lived together for eight years now. within that time, not only did we individually lose ourselves in peer pressure, worldly love, and the feeling that we just weren’t good enough but we also found ourselves in the redemption and freedom of Christ. today, i can confidently say that we aren’t just siblings- we’re two parts that make up the spiritual body.
the thing is, we’ve lived most of our adult lives separately. i can only base my knowledge of him on who he was and people’s hearsay more than recent experiences. i don’t know what he’s like from day to day. sometimes i’m ok with not knowing, because it’s easier not knowing. but even from afar, he hurt me. i’m disappointed by the promises he broke and the affirmation he hardly gave me. i remember him as the one who always told me i couldn’t do it while i tried so hard to prove him wrong. i remember all the times my parents gave him something he didn’t deserve and i stood in the back shaking my head with envy and disapproval. sadly, my attitude towards him hasn’t changed much even though i know he’s a different person today. a hesitation lingers in my heart and i can’t get myself to fully embrace him with open arms.
the great thing about the parable of the Prodigal Son is the way it ends. the Father makes His joy clear to both His sons. He tells His eldest son to come celebrate with Him because his brother has returned. but we don’t see how the story ends. there’s no conversation between the two brothers mentioned; no reconciliation, no forgiveness, no dramatic tears shed. i believe we each identify with one of the brothers. i’m the one standing outside of the party, debating whether or not i want to go in. if i go in, i’ll have to let go of my doubt and resentment. i’ll have to learn to model a grace that’s beyond my capacity. Jesus is asking me to join the party.
my brother is going back to NYU to finish his undergrad degree in hospitality. i’ve decided to go new york with him- mainly because i want to know who he is. i want to stop saying that i don’t understand him and say that i believe in his dreams, his passions and his calling in life wholeheartedly. i want to love him not because we’re family, but because i treasure who he is in Christ. the greatest anticipation is, through this season of reconciliation, we will witness God’s grace and glory manifest. i’m joining the party. i just bought my one-way ticket to new york!
me, jane and andrew. new york city, 2002
