Posts Tagged ‘prodigal’

Today would have been my youngest brother’s birthday. James Edward Dahl, born January 24, 1958, the youngest of five children, died August 18, 2012. His creative brain was stopped by an bursting aneurysm which soon after stilled his beating heart. More than four years later, I don’t need pictures to remind me of his warm smile or the pain that he medicated through alcohol.


I attended my first Al-anon meeting last week. I wish I had gone years ago. But I told myself that his alcoholism affected my co-dependent mom, not me. I lived too far away from his daily life. I thought I was not touched by this disease. However, as I tried to move forward after his death followed a year later by our mother’s death, I discovered many unresolved issues surrounding my relationship with my artistic, lonely, sharing but self-burdened younger brother.

At that Al-anon meeting, around the room I heard echoed my own thoughts and struggles. Why couldn’t  I fix him? How come I could not convince my mother of her co-dependency, as she gave him money and made excuses for him? During my visits to see him and mom, I’d ask, “Didn’t he love me enough to delay drinking until after the movie?”

I heard one admit that she was like the older brother who would not join his Father’s celebration at the return of the Prodigal Son in the story told by Jesus. In her words, I heard my brother’s accusation that I rode into town being the “Good Child” and leaving mom upset. When he blamed others and could say it aloud, he usually had been drinking and so my admission and apology could not be received, but I rarely heard his heart cries. I did not understand his inner pain or the hold that alcohol held over his life.

I was the self-righteous one with all the answers. Since his death, all I encounter is questions. If I couldn’t fix him, could I accept him for who he was? If I couldn’t understand his behavior, could I acknowledge his great love for his family, his friends, and his art? If he could not wait for that drink after a day of smiling at unreasonable customers, can I face the fact that I longed for him to be free, to be whole, and to receive the love that God and so many offered him? Can I see the log in my own eye in all those efforts to force our mother to see the speck in hers?

Today’s reading in Courage to Change, a book given to me at that first Al-anon meeting, I am encouraged to be myself, to own my own feelings of anger, embarrassment, resentment, or fear that one of my children may “catch this disease.” Today, I can choose to honor my brother’s struggles and his gifts. Today, I can embrace my own faults and contributions.

I can apply what William Shakespeare wrote, “This above all, to thine own self be true.”

– link to Al-anon Family Groups in USA, Canada & Bermuda: http://al-anon.org

–  The Biblical story of the prodigal son can be found in the book of Luke chapter 15  with a few other lost and found stories.

–  Jesus’ words on the log and the speck are in Matthew which is printed here.
Matthew 7:3-5 New Living Translation (NLT) from Bible Gateway.com

3 “And why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye[a] when you have a log in your own? 4 How can you think of saying to your friend,[b] ‘Let me help you get rid of that speck in your eye,’ when you can’t see past the log in your own eye? 5 Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye.                       [a & b: in Greek = brother]

– humorous note on context of Shakespeare
quote from Hamlet: https://www.enotes.com/shakespeare-quotes/thine-own-self-true


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Turn around. What happens when you do that? Try it now. No, not just look over your shoulder, but stand up and physically turn around. If you did what I asked, what changed? I am willing to bet you noticed something; an item you would like different, a person you might want to speak to, or something that made you smile.

First, the act of standing up brought fresh oxygen into your system. Maybe you noticed muscles that were tight and you flexed them. Second, the act of turning around brought fresh perspective into that moment. This illustrates the beginning of repentance.

When I turned around, in the same way I instructed you, I noticed a poster on my office wall – Rembrandt’s painting of The Return of the Prodigal Son. The focus of the painting is on the richly dressed Father embracing his bedraggled son whose feet reveal worn-out shoes. Three observers of this touching scene are portrayed clearly, but above and behind the father is another figure, deep in shadow. Is this a servant who will soon fetch the fine clothes or kill the fatted calf for this returning son?

The story Jesus told, as recorded in Luke 15, starts with a son eager to leave home, who requests his inheritance in advance. There was no more money coming to him after he blew it all. It took courage for the son to return to his father, and admit his folly. Fear of starvation made him stop and think. Fear of his father made him ask to be a servant. But Love rejoiced at his return. Love restored his place and position. Love welcomed him home.

Before Easter arrives, may you turn around and examine your own life. Are there resources God has given you that you are wasting? Are there things in your life that you wish were different? Turn around and come home to Jesus. Be welcomed by a loving Father, and I bet that servant in the background, the Holy Spirit, will rush to clothe and feed you in ways beyond my capability to list.

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