After pondering the question, 'do actions have consequences', I offered this ending for the younger, prodigal son, in the parable...
For as long as I can remember, I was always his little brother, the one who was expected to follow his example of obedience: ‘why can’t you be more like him,’ my parents would say, as once again I was told off for some, to me, insignificant misdemeanour. I was always second – when I was born he could already walk and talk; when I was toddling, he learned to read and count; when I was old enough to start work, he already had all the skills finely honed. There was nothing I could do that he hadn’t done, and I so needed to prove myself. So I pestered our father relentlessly until he agreed to give me my share of the inheritance, selling off livestock in order to do so. And I have to confess I went a bit wild. Now I could do what I wanted to do, and I did. I wasn’t hurting anyone… well except my parents maybe… or the people I got angry with when I was drunk… or the innkeepers that never got paid when the money ran out…
Going back home was the hardest decision even. I knew I had messed up. Big time. My big brother would never do such a thing! So the welcome, the party, the clothes – well it blew my mind. To be called ‘son’ and welcomed home, forgiven, loved… it was amazing.
I wish I hadn’t done what I did. I wish I had behaved differently. But I can’t change it.
Family life? Well it’s getting there. Still the odd tension between us brothers, and the occasional lapse into old ways.
Work? It’s going fine. I have discovered what my skills are – and aren’t – and am learning how best to employ them.
Consequences? Oh yes. I now realise that my choices back then have ongoing consequences, that forgiveness and grace and love cannot undo what I did. But to know that I am forgiven, and loved; to believe that grace is transforming me… Even on my bad days, even when the consequences are hard to bear, I hold on to those truths and trust that in the end all will redeemed within the love of God.