The Prodigal and the Proud

I realised I’ve not posted for a long time, and that is probably owing to my compulsion of wanting my posts to be perfect. I don’t want to post something I’ll later regret or wish I could have phrased better. But then I came to the conclusion that a blog isn’t the right medium for perfection; it’s more of a medium for raw thought (which I want to distinguish from raw emotion). I do have quite a number of posts that are sitting in my editing pile and hopefully some of those might now see the light of day.

This evening, I was reading through some poetry by Piper called the Prodigal’s Sister. It’s a retelling of the parable of the prodigal son from the perspective of a sister whose work and words reconcile both brothers to their father. This excerpt comes from the end of this little book of poetry, and is a prayer that responds beautifully to the truths in the parable.

And now, O Christ, let there be light
So we can see the way aright
Between two dismal forms of death,
And with that light, O give us breath
To live again, and bring us back
From pleasures in a foreign shack,
Or from the pride of weary arm,
While working on the Father’s farm.
From demon sloth and pleasures raw,
Or demon toil and pride of law.
The pathway home from either place
Is opened by the word of grace.
O Christ, pursue us till we see
That all of God’s bequests are free.
The ticket that we have to show
Is this: that we are glad to go.

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