©LF Haynie, November 2017
To Sally, who shows me how God’s heart has room for us all.
I work.
All day long, I work hard.
I work to do my Father’s will.
I work to continue His work,
And I work to my own joy,
The fertile soil, tending the many flocks,
Leading.
Leading,
Yet always led.
I gained my portion
As my younger brother did.
Yet he has the fun of it and I have the work of it.
With my Father always in front of me,
Always I look to him,
Always never quite the leader, always led.
Working always, trying to do my best,
To make sure everything is done just right,
To make sure that everyone is safe,
That there will be food and shelter
For all in my domain--
It’s my responsibility, my joy.
Yet, my younger brother
Always made fun of me,
He the jokester, the clown;
I the “heavy”
Trying to live my life the way Dad wanted me to
And never quite the way I wanted to.
But being the “responsible one,” the “good older son”
I worked.
I worked hard, every day.
And he, the jokester, played hard.
It’s not fair!
I have never had the fun
Of being the first, the elder son.
And he grabbed all the attention.
And whined when he could not get his way,
And claimed “unfair” that he should be made to work,
As all of us do, in one way or another,
To earn his way.
He should have looked up to me, Dad!
He never did, he never saw me as being due the rights of the eldest.
[Bitter thoughts, My son.
Bitter thoughts and anger and feelings of being left out,
When you know that
My heart beats for all My children,
Every single one--
Whether they acknowledge me or not,
Whether they obey Me or not,
Whether they take My advice or not,
I love them all the same--
Each one individually, but all equally loved.]
What’s that racket?
I hear a noise, a sound of cheering and happiness,
Happy sounds, a parade, a ticker tape parade.
What is it ? Who has arrived, that such a fuss is made?
And why has the servant not come to get me?
It is my place now, you know.
Yes, Dad is first among equals,
Always,
And always due respect,
Honor thy Father, and all that.
But this is my land, my house,
My servants, my welcome,
MY place here,
To meet, to greet,
To give the kiss of brotherhood,
To offer the tired traveler the basin of cool water,
The servant to stoop down and wash the dirt
From his feet,
The hot towel for his face.
The clean robe, the sandals, the ring.
Lo, the servant comes with the news.
I cannot bear it,
I cannot.
This my brother, whom I loved dearly,
In spite of all he has said to me,
In spite of all he has done to me,
I loved him dearly…
I mourned him, grieved him, lost him.
Lost my younger brother.
So beloved.
Such a pest.
This my brother has returned,
And I cannot be happy.
Cannot be happy that he has returned,
For my Father’s heart, happy now
WILL be torn again, I know it will.
Will he divide “his” possessions yet again?
Like Achilles’ tortoise, my share gets smaller and smaller.
[And yet, my son,
You have had the best from Me, always.
You have done what is right,
You have done what is within the Law.
Is it not allowed that I can give to another--
Can give to your brother--
What is Mine?
Where is your heart, my son?
Would you begrudge your brother My love?]
Why is my Father withholding his approval? See…
His son, that pest,
Is getting Dad’s approval even now;
Even after all he has done to hurt us.
Why does my Father withhold the good from me,
And not from him?
Does He not love me as much?
Does He not care for me as fully,
Do I not make Him smile every day,
As I lay my plans to do a good day’s work in the morning,
As I account to Him in the evening for the doings of the day?
As I listen to His words of wisdom and follow them faithfully?
Why does my Father withhold the good from me, and not from him?
[Now, do I, indeed, My son? Look again.
You are with Me always.
You have all the good from My heart.
Cannot thou spare a little for this, thy brother,
Come home at long last?
Aware that he has lost his way,
That he has nothing to bring to Me,
That he has less than nothing to bring to Me,
Yet begging for one scrap from my table?
Would you treat even an unknown beggar this way?
But maybe the unknown beggar does not
Make you feel threatened,
As this, your wayward younger brother, does.]
The bitterness enters my heart, like a knife blade in the chest
I cannot bear to look at him, my younger brother,
Lest my heart be torn by his well-worn look,
By the knowledge that I have a roof over my head,
A rich robe to put on after the labor in the field,
A gold ring on my finger—a signet ring on my finger.
The first son, the elder, the one to be looked up to--
While he? He was living with the pigs.
But it was by his own choice!
I ordered him not to go!
As elder brother, I have that right!
He laughed in my face!
I even begged him not to go!
I begged him, and he?
He shook his head, and said he would go,
Called me a stick in the mud, and off he went.
[My son, My son, do not be bitter.
Bitterness is Satan’s tool,
That hardens your heart
And does not freely spread My love;
It hurts you far more than it does anyone else.
Remember the second greatest commandment--
To love your neighbor as yourself--
Is not your brother even closer than a neighbor?]
I cannot go in,
Lest he then read my face (as he always has) like a book,
Lest he then use it (as he always has) to gain even more,
The rascal, he always could
Get around my Father with his words and his laugh.
[I don’t intend that he “get away” with anything, My son,
But he has learned his lesson.
Have you learned yours,
To be gracious and loving and kind,
And merciful and forgiving
To those who are hurtful,
To those who are foolish,
To those who find their way back home to Me?
He is not claiming the rights of the son,
Of the family,
Of being My child,
He only asks for My forgiveness
And a little sustenance to hold his body and soul together.
He has truly learned his lesson,
O elder son of Mine… but have you?
What are you letting Satan do with your heart?
Having gained my younger son back,
Am I now destined to lose my elder?
Wandering far astray in his bitterness?]
What should I do? What should I say?
I cannot go in--
Or wait! I could.
I could go in and look
Haughty and disdaining,
Making him feel the weight,
The full weight of my disapproval--
Me, the elder, whose disapproval
Should weigh heavily upon him.
THAT will teach him!
[O, My elder son. My good boy, who has never wandered from my side—until now. Don’t you see what Satan is doing? How he is dividing you from your brother? Return to Me, o this My other prodigal son.]
One who is full loathes honey from the comb, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet.--Proverbs 27:7 [NIV]
… lest any one be failing of the grace of God, lest any root of bitterness springing up may give trouble…--Hebrews 12:15
Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy-- Proverbs 14:10 [NIV]
‘This is what you are to say to Joseph: I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they committed in treating you so badly.’ Now please forgive the sins of the servants of the God of your father.” When their message came to him, Joseph wept.-- Genesis 50:17
If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land--2 Chronicles 7:14
“Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”-- Luke 6:37
Now is the time to forgive this man and help him back on his feet. If all you do is pour on the guilt, you could very well drown him in it. My counsel now is to pour on the love.—2 Corinthians 2:7 [MSG]