Beautiful Compassion

So, I've recently (as you can probably tell from my blogs) experienced just a bit (well, maybe quite a bit) of brokeness. I feel like the prodigal son (daughter) who has returned at last to her welcoming and compassionate father. Brokeness truly is beautiful...it's made beautiful by the beauty of the compassion that surrounds it. I am reading the book The Return of the Prodigal Son (FANTASTIC BOOK) by Nouwen, and in the book he has a description of Jesus Christ as a form of the prodigal son. It's beautiful, and as always, I'd like to share. Enjoy!

"He, who is born not from human stock, or human desire or human will, but from God himself everything that was under his footstool and he left with his inheritance, his title of Son, and the whole ransom price. He left for a far country....the faraway land...where he became as human beings are and emptied himself. His own people did not accept him and his first bed was a bed of straw! Like a root in arid ground, he grew up before us, he was despised, the lowest of men, before whom one covers his face. Very soon, he came to know exile, hostility, loneliness...After having given away everything in a life of bounty, his worth, his peace, his light, his truth, his life...all the treasures of knowledge and wisdom and the hidden mystery kept secret for endless ages; after having lost himself among the lost children of the house of Israel, spending his time with the sick, with the sinners, and even with the prostitutes to whom he promised entrance into the Kingdom of his Father; after having been treated as a glutton and a drunkard, as a friend of tax collectors and sinners, as a Samaritan, a possessed, a blasphemer; after having offered everything, even his body and his blood; after having felt deeply in himself sadness, anguish, and a troubled soul; after having gone to the bottom of despair, with which he voluntarily dressed himself as being abandoned by his Father far away from the source of living water, he cried out from the cross on which he was nailed: 'I am thirsty.' He was laid to rest in the dust and the shadow of death. And there, on the third day, he rose up from the depths of hell to where he had descended, burdened with the crimes of us all, he bore our sins, our sorrows he carried. Standing straight, he cried out: 'Yes, I am ascending to my Father, and your Father, to my God, and your God.' And he reascended to heaven. Then in the silence, looking at his Son and all his children, since his Son had become all in all, the Father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring out the best robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet; let us eat and celebrate! Because my children who, as you know, were dead have returned to life; they were lost and have been found again! My prodigal Son has brought them all back.' They all began to have a feast dressed in their long robes, washed white in the blood of the Lamb."

What beautiful compassion.