Prodigal-ness

The story of the prodigal son is a narration that revolves mainly around two main characters, the father and the prodigal son, most of you know this. Although there is another son, I will not dwell on him in this piece.

Most of us will relate personal experiences with that of the "son", who always thinks that he has a way of his own. Swaying from the love of the father, a love that is unconditional, a love that sets us free.

The narration tells us this, that no matter who we were, are and will be, the "father" will always be there to welcome us whenever we need him. His love surpasses our being. And no matter what we want in life, he'll give us our due when we ask for it. With it, we are free to do whatever we please, just like the prodigal son who spent some of his days on earthly matters. Whenever we go away he'll be waiting for us everyday to return. He'll be looking far into the horizon, waiting even for just a faint glimpse of our shadow. And when he finds us, he'll be welcoming us, giving the best of his richness no matter how much we feel unworthy of his love.

However, by some wisp of thought, I came to experience the other hand of the story. That of the father's. Although I know for sure that my love cannot really match that of the father's, I am sure that it is the kind of love willing am I to give, that which is unconditional, that which will set the other free. And just like the father's: no deadlines for returning.

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I hope that my son knows this.

I don't know where my prodigal son be right now neither what kind of things he be doing as of the moment. The only thing I understand is he be having problems of his own and trying to deal with them with his best. I just hope that he will not sink down to eating pig shit.

Just like in the story, I will be waiting everyday outside my door under all circumstances just to catch a glimpse of him. And when I do see him back, I will definitely give him the warmest of my embrace of welcome, put out the best of my robes to clothe him, put the most expensive ring in his finger.

Lastly I will have the fattest cattle slaughtered for the big feast of having my prodigal son back for there was a time when I thought that she was dead, but now is alive and is with me.