a father’s release (prodigal, continued)

Posted: April 18, 2013 in Uncategorized

My wife thought I had lost my mind when I started selling off livestock.  I needed to raise cash.  I had decided it was time to let our younger son chase his dreams.

Our first had always been so practical.  Predictable, reliable, and always on time.  A planner.  Predisposed to put his head down and work.

This younger one, though, had been a dreamer from the beginning – as different from his older brother as night is from day.  Full of such big ideas for such a little boy.  His mother and I tried to steer him right – tried to settle his thoughts down – but late at night while the boys slept, we would share the stories of his dreams with one another and we would chuckle together in quiet wonder.  Where did he come up with this stuff?

As he had gotten older, his dreams had shifted from flights of fantasy to points of argument.  He was made for bigger things than our little farm, he said.  We tried to talk sense to him.  But his eyes were wild with longing, his jaw set firm.  He talked and he talked and he talked.  I got tired of him catching me, cornering me for one more plea.

That was the day I started selling off livestock.  The boy could never know true freedom as long as this point of contention stood between us.  I wouldn’t keep him a prisoner here in a place he felt he didn’t belong.  My heart was heavy, but my mind was sure:  it was time to grant his wish.  He was surprised at first, learning of my plan.  And then his excitement grew palpable.  He couldn’t get away from this place fast enough.

The day he took off down that road, I wondered when or even if I would see him again.


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