i think this is a mixture of three different posts i wanted to write...

i've often been quite ashamed to admit to myself, let alone to anyone else, that i identify more with the prodigal son's older brother - who spent his life bitterly working his a** off to earn what was already his and then in jealousy could not bring himself to celebrate his brother's return. Or the servant who took the one talent and hid it for fear of his masters reprieve should he take a risk and lose it. better safe than sorry, no?

i always assumed the parable was addressed at the "lost" ones, i.e. the ones 'squandering their fortunes on "wordly things"'. But maybe it's the older brothers and the stingy servants that are more lost. They are more blinded to the truth because they hold it in their hands and don't even realise.

I hate to say it but i would probably have been one of the ones shocked and uncomfortable by a woman pouring out expensive perfume over Jesus' feet. I would have been in the kitchen with Martha stressing over the food rather than sitting at those same feet taking in his every word.

and i want all this to change. yet knowing i cannot change myself. as much as i'd like to be i will never be perfect. (!)

so it's back to my knees to say "i can't do this by myself"

and back to my feet and instead of hovering on the edge just pondering about what lies beyond while staying firmly planted on solid ground, it's taking a leap and leaving the good behind to aim for the best; abandoning the pond and heading for the sea.