With hesitant steps, the elder brother moved towards his father, trying to grasp it, grace. Yet, as he drew nearer, the weight of pride held him back, an invisible barrier he couldn’t breach. He wrestled the conflicting emotions, torn between the allure of recognition and the whisper of humility.
Somewhere within, a voice of irony questioned his own worthiness of love and acceptance. He felt inadequate, unworthy of the grace that seemed to embrace his younger brother so freely. The scars of self-doubt gnawed at his soul, a relentless reminder of his imperfections. He felt this way his whole life, but hided it.
“I don’t deserve grace,” the voice whispered, “for I am not enough, not as I am.”
Reason waged war against this internal struggle, offering explanations and justifications for his self-perceived inadequacies. “I’ve kept the commandments, all of them from my youth, I’ve tried, and I’ve done what was asked of me.” “I’ve tried. I’ve tried.”
“I’ve tried my hardest, my brother hasn’t”.
In the midst of the celebration, the elder son stood within arms reach of his father, yet he hesitated. With a heavy heart, he turned away, leaving the festival behind.
“Your grace is insufficient”, for me.
(story to be continued…..)