Preparing Through Parable: Back Safe and Sound

 

11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father.

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
Luke 15:11-32

 

 

 

The story of the prodigal son(s) has such breadth and depth and heart and illumination  – it is impossible to read it again without peering into a glass darkly to find a new pinhole of truth.

We think it is about the wayward son who blows his inheritance on high and careless living, ends up jealous of the swine’s fodder, and comes back with remorse and repentance to be welcomed and embraced by his grieving father.

We think it is about the father full of forgiveness and longing for his lost child, who harbors not an ounce of bitterness, rejoicing at the restoration of his relationship with his son.

But for me it is about the older son, the more nuanced “prodigal” in the story, who becomes resentful and angry, unappreciative for the rich home and family legacy given him by his father.  As the “good” and dutiful son who towed the line, he feels entitled to whatever the father has but wastes the rich gift of generosity just as surely as his younger brother did, showing no compassion or relief when his brother returns home.  He is the one whose heart has truly wandered away and is lost, perhaps never to be found and restored again.

What is the true treasure of riches we inherit from our Father?   That pot of gold reflecting His Light is right where it has always been:  in the heart of the Father, in His grace and mercy and compassion for our brokenness, welcoming us back with open arms when we, wandering and lost, find our way back home.

 

May my eyes see, my ears hear, my heart understand.  He prepares me with parable.

 

 

 

Preparing Through Parable: The One That Wandered Off

irishroad

 

12 “What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? 13 And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off.
Matthew 18:12-13

 

coastalsheep

 

There is no greater fear than losing hold and sight of your precious child in a crowd; all you can see is a blur of heads and bodies that don’t belong to the one you love.  You have no idea where they are or how to begin to find them.

Desperation grows by the second.
I’ve felt that panic and I’ve seen it in other parents’ eyes.

When we displayed our Haflingers at our regional fair year after year where thousands of people would pass by our stalls daily, we became unofficially designated as a “safe place” to go for lost children who knew their parents would know to look for them near the golden ponies with the snowy white manes and tails.  We saw quite a few tearful reunions over the years and there is nothing like the relief and gratitude when the lost are found.

We are sought out when we wander; we are missed desperately.
We who are lost should seek out safe refuge with those who will protect us until we are found.
When found, we embrace and weep with the One who has risked all to look for us.

May my eyes see, my ears hear, my heart understand.  He prepares me with parable.

 

lochlomond3

 

 

Where You Belong

roadeast

plumtwinswinter

Tell me, where is the road
    I can call my own,
That I left, that I lost,
    So long ago?
All these years I have wandered,
    Oh, when will I know
There’s a way, there’s a road
    That will lead me home?

After wind, after rain,
    When the dark is done.
As I wake from a dream
    In the gold of day,
Through the air there’s a calling
    From far away,
There’s a voice I can hear
    That will lead me home.

Rise up, follow me,
    Come away, is the call,
With the love in your heart
    As the only song;
There is no such beauty
    As where you belong:
Rise up, follow me,
   I will lead you home.
~Stephen Paulus “The Road Home”

stormynight

We want to remember,
and be remembered.
We want to welcome,
and be welcomed.
We want to return,
forgiven forever
for whatever we had done.

We seek the comfort of
where we belong.
He brings us home from wandering.

Home.

Full of longing for belonging,
homeless no longer,
now homeful and hopeful.

centralroadlane

One Who Waits For Us

evening1151514

When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother’s piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold

And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying

Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country

I’ve never understood
Why this is so

But there’s an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow

For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest

And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country

We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchards
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams

And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.
~Anne Porter “Music” from Living Things. © Zoland Books, 2006.

evening1151513

One evening, when our daughter was only a toddler,
just learning the words to tell us what she needed,
I was preparing dinner, humming to
a choral music piece playing in the background.

She sat on the kitchen floor, looking up at me,
her eyes welling full with tears
like pools of reflected light spilling over
from some deep-remembered reservoir of sorrow.

At first I thought she was hurt or upset
but then could see she was feeling
an ache a desolation
deep as a homesickness
as she wept for wonder
at the sad beauty of the music
that spoke for her
the words she could not express:

Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.

pinkbaker1217

Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night
I weep for wonder wand’ring far
alone
Of shadows on the stars.

To Wander Slowly

darkhedgesantique
photo by Emily Gibson (Dark Hedges, Ireland)
13879177_1446182428744399_766280154661466636_n
photo by Joel DeWaard (Whatcom County, Washington)

 

For how many years did I wander slowly
through the forest. What wonder and
glory I would have missed had I ever been
in a hurry!
~Mary Oliver from “Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way” from Felicity

 

beechtrail
photo by Emily Gibson (Mt. Stewart Gardens, Ireland)
newhampshirefall1
photo by Ben Gibson (New Hampshire)

God is at home, it’s we who have gone out for a walk.
~Meister Eckhart

rhodiecontrast
photo by Emily Gibson (Ireland)
lochlomond5
photo by Emily Gibson (Scotland)

Sometimes going for a walk is too much like a sprint, as far and as fast as possible.
Sometimes it is a spontaneous trek into the unknown, just to prove it can be done.
Sometimes it is a climb into the dark, with precipices and crumbling ledges under our feet.
Sometimes it is simply a journey of curiosity to see what may be around the corner.

No matter why or where or how far we wander,
or how slowly,
the path home shines just bright enough
to show us the way back to His glory
when we are ready.
He is there, waiting.
He keeps the light on for us.

pathwaylight2
photo by Emily Gibson (Vancouver Island)

A Light from the Shadows

dandyfire8243

sunsetqal2

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
~J.R.R. Tolkien

dillweb2

   Now burn, new born to the world,
      Doubled-naturèd name,
   The heaven-flung, heart-fleshed, maiden-furled
   Miracle-in-Mary-of-flame,
Mid-numbered he in three of the thunder-throne!
Not a dooms-day dazzle in his coming nor dark as he came;
      Kind, but royally reclaiming his own;
A released shower, let flash to the shire, not a lightning of fíre hard-hurled.
~Gerard Manley Hopkins from “The Wreck of the Deutschland”

sunsetqal

We tend to forget we too are heaven-flung;
each of us plain and ordinary and numerous as the weeds of the field
until the Light comes upon us from the shadows,
illuminated gold and dazzling,
fire-awakened, hard-hurled and reclaimed as His own.
He calls us each by name,
knows each slender thread of hair on our heads.
We may wander, oh do we wander,
but are not lost
as long as our faces remain turned toward Him.

dandyfire8244

Your Unfolding Life

sunflowerjuy

begoniawlc

pnp168

Beauty is about more rounded substantial becoming,
….an emerging fullness,
a greater sense of grace and elegance,
a deeper sense of depth,
and also a kind of homecoming
for the enriched memory of your unfolding life.

~John O’Donohue from an “On Being” interview

 

cornflower2016

Whenever we wander from home,
witnessing beauty in far flung places,
I find I yearn even more for the homecoming
of memories unfolding
from where they are so neatly stored,
so deep and so wide, so full and filling.

seeds

dahlialinda

petuniajuly