Month: March 2016

         “My child, you are always with me,         and all that is mine is yours.
         Now we have to celebrate and rejoice,
         because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life;
         he was lost and has been found.”
                  —Luke 15.31-32

My child,
do you know how much I love you?

I give you everything,
all that I have, all Creation.
It breaks my heart
when you turn away—
how many times a day?—
but I love you,
and I will give myself to you.
Come to me.

You may go to a far land or out into the field;
however far off you are I will see you.
I will come to you, shaking with love.
I will leave the party to come to you.
I will hike my robe up around my knees,
running foolishly, to come to you.
Do you know how I weep with joy?
Come home.

Rebellious or obedient, you are my Beloved.
I will silence your speech about just desserts.
I will ignore the wise advisors,
foolishly, extravagantly, over and over
I will offer you my best.
I will give you myself.
Come in.

Though you have turned from your brother
I will give you back to each other.
You who are dead to one another I will restore.
I will give you back your family.
I will bring you back to life,
give you back to myself.

When you break my heart again
I will still love you, still give you myself,
again and again forever, for the sake of love.
Come in,
for our sake.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

          “Father, for all these years I have been working like a slave for you,          
         and I have never disobeyed your command;          
         yet you have never given me even a young goat          
         so that I might celebrate with my friends.          
         But when this son of yours came back,          
         who has devoured your property with prostitutes,          
         you killed the fatted calf for him!”
                  —Luke 15.29-30

I am older now.
I have done my running and returning.
Or never did, and regret it.

I ran without leaving,
and without returning.

Like my younger self
I have not sought you—
just your providence.
Like him I have not been a son to you
but a slave.
Like him I profess
why I should not come in to your house.

Forgive my self-righteous prayer.
Forgive me that I obeyed but did not love.
Forgive my belief in deserving—
both his and mine.
Forgive my leaving
for the far country of my anger.

Forgive my disinterest
in what pain made him flee,
what he suffered, what he learned,
what made him return.
Forgive me that I can’t yet say
that I missed him,
that I was afraid to be afraid for him.

Forgive my refusal to be kin
of those who seek, who wander,
who do not enslave themselves like I.
Forgive my envy of those
who receive you so easily,
my resentment of those who are forgiven.

Forgive me, and give me grace
to forgive him, to forgive you,
and grace even deeper to forgive
myself in my self-enclosure.
Defy my pious rant,
and bring me in to the party.
Make me your son after all,
for no reason but love.
Make me his brother,
for our sake.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com