Day 4

I come from a long line of over-reactors. Some people call it passionate, some people call it crazy, I call it Italian. I barely had the opportunity of knowing either of my grandparents but the stories told by my parents lead me to believe that all four of my grand-figures [100% Italian] felt very justified in their garish ways. I would love to recount the history of our fairly-unwated family trait. I can't help but wonder if the originator of it was the biggest over reactor of all time or if the lovely characteristic has mutated and grown increasingly over time, making my generation the epitome of exaggerated reactions. I like to think the latter is not true. My parents happen to be two very practical over reactors. I believe they introduced rational behavior into the art of over reacting and if I ever have children I pray that their over reactor factor will be even more watered-down.

With that family secret out in the open, may I express my disbelief when the dad reacts with compassion and kindness to the prodigal son? What in the world?! Verse 20 says, "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, but by the time he crossed the field he remember what a selfish brat his child had been and he approached him with flailing arms and fierce eyes and immediately began a dissertation on the ridiculousness of prodigal boy's behavior." Nope, I lied. Verse 20 says, "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." And then he proceeded to throw a party in honor of his idiotic son coming to his senses. It kind of makes me mad that the dad didn't set the son straight. Is he even a fit parent...just letting his son be wasteful and selfish?

It makes me think of my own childhood...spilling a sea of orange juice when trying to pour for my independent self, or knocking down the whole wall of games when trying to fit a few toes on a shelf so I could reach the precious game I wanted to play. I'd wait with bated breath and a terrorized face as my mind sunk to the realization that I did something not-quite-wise and I deserved a serious punishment by whatever parent heard the disaster occur and was about to fly around the corner. Then as my dad approached me looking less than mad, my scared face began to loosen beginning with the furrowed eyebrow. My heart began to feel light as my dad revealed that he came prepared with a roll of paper towels and acceptance of my immaturity.

I know I am blessed that I had a dad like that. Maybe you didn't. Maybe you never knew acceptance and love and the feeling of undeserved mercy. That's unfair...but it's ok. Pack up your bags and practice saying your line over and over, "I have sinned against you, I am no longer worthy to be called your son or daughter." You, in all your humanness, are accepted by your Father in heaven. Pack up your bad choices and selfish behavior and run to His arms. He will lavish compassion and forgiveness on you. People will be looking at you [the way that I was looking at the prodigal son] asking why you aren't being punished...it is my prayer that they will know it is because we serve a God who loves His creation so deeply and recklessly.


Jenna Thomas