His mother isn’t mentioned in the parable
of the prodigal. No surprises about that. But
she’s present just the same, pondering her
boys, her thoughts like hospitality, warm
wind over who they’ve been and will become.
She loves them both so much. She considers
their successes and failures and gifts. Their
temptations. How different they are. She
wonders what home means for a son who
journeys, what journey means for a son at
home. On uplifted palms she weighs which
is most arduous: a long plod from far away
to be forgiven, or several heavy steps into joy.
Pondering
August 1, 2025

Photo by analysis121980
August 2025
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