The Lost Son

The Prodigal Son , also known as the Lost Son, is one of the best known parables of Jesus (Luke 15:11-32). Jesus tells the story of a man who has two sons. The younger son asks his father to give him his portion of the family estate as an early inheritance. Once received, the son promptly sets off on a long journey to a distant land and begins to waste his fortune on wild living. When the money runs out, a severe famine hits the country and the son finds himself in dire circumstances. He takes a job feeding pigs. He is so destitute that he even longs to eat the food assigned to the pigs. The young man finally comes to his senses, remembering his father. In humility, he recognizes his foolishness, decides to return to his father and ask for forgiveness and mercy. The father who had been watching and waiting, receives his son back with open arms of compassion. He is overjoyed by the return of his lost son! Immediately the father turns to his servants and asks them to prepare a giant feast in celebration. Meanwhile, the older son is not one bit happy when he comes in from working the fields and discovers a party going on to celebrate his younger brother's return. The father tries to dissuade the older brother from his jealous rage explaining, "You are always with me, and everything I have is yours."

Bryan was born 28 years ago today. Our own Valentine's baby. I remember Arleen and I picking him up at the hospital and the two hour drive back home. Arleen couldn't take her eyes off of him the entire trip. Her dream had finally come true of having a child of her own. And eight months later, we were joined by Matt. Now, I don't mean to compare myself with Jesus, but I do mean to compare myself to the father who had two sons. My own parable is that my older son, Bryan, set off on his own journey some 10 years ago and we haven't spoken since. I've tried to make contact every year at Christmas and on his birthday. But, nothing. I am like the father in the parable, watching and waiting to receive my son with open arms of compassion. I would be overjoyed by the return of my lost son. And I don't think my younger son, Matt, would be in the least bit jealous. I think he would be happy. For he knows I love both him and his brother equally. Not the same. But each unequivocally loved.

One day. Maybe.