He saw his son from afar looking hungry, depressed, broken. How could he resist? He loved his son. Had his son trespassed against him? Had his son disgraced him? Had he taken all his hard-earned money and squandered it? Had his son ripped his heart to pieces? YES!
And yet, he couldn't turn his back on him as he came up the dusty road. No. He ran to his son. Heart beating. Sandals pounding the dirt. He loved him more than anything. He would now show him this love.
Hugs. Kisses. A beautiful robe. A ring. Some sandals. And finally, a feast! Would it be enough? Would it be enough to show his son how much he truly loved him?
{Rembrandt--The Return of the Prodigal Son}
Oh, that we could forgive with such abandonment!
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