[The older brother] was angry and refused to go in.
His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, “Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!” And he said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” Luke 15:28–31
Heavenly Father, I’d never boast about my many years of serving you and boast in my record of obedience. Nevertheless, I acknowledge at times my ingratitude matches that of the older brother. I can whine with the best of them. But I do my best repenting not by groveling, but by preaching the gospel to my own heart, so here goes.
Father, every day you run to us in the gospel—inviting, imploring, pleading with us to get on the dance floor of your grace—to enjoy the music of reconciliation, to sing the songs of redemption, to make merry to the glory of God.
As with the “elder brother,” you constantly confront our gospel-amnesia, saying, “My son, you’re always with me because I’m always with you. Nothing will separate you from my love, exhaust my grace, or use up my mercies. I greatly delight in you, my child, and rejoice over you with singing.”
“Everything I have is yours. All your sins are forgiven, and I’ve declared you righteous in my beloved Son. I’ve hidden your life in Jesus. I will complete the good work I began in you. Your sin, sorrows, and wounds have an expiration date.”
“I’ve made you a co-heir of the entire new heavens and new earth. You are destined for an eternity of perfect relationships and perfect everything. Come, my child, let us rejoice and be glad.”
Father, thank you, and I repent. Keep beating down my ungratefulness with massive love blasts of the gospel. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ peerless and praiseworthy name.
