It's Not My Fault...
Its not my fault!
He had it all. I mean I was the
eldest, but Mum and Dad paid no attention to me. What he wanted though, he got.
He was a spoiled brat. I never got a moment's peace from the day and hour he
was born. If I wasn't being asked to do things to help Mum with him, he was
traipsing around after me. Although I suppose he didn't have anyone else to
play with.
But as we grew up he had it easy. I was the one expected to do the
farming. It was me who blistered my hands and broke my back ploughing the
fields and reaping the corn. Him... well he decided to become a shepherd. Spent
all his days traipsing across the countryside, lying out on the hillside under
the shade of trees when the sun got too hot, while down in the valley there was
me, digging a drainage ditch. He always had it easy! He was Dad's favourite,
Mum's favourite, and God's favourite! Always was... good luck just rolled his
way all the time! It wasn't fair.
Then harvest there took the biscuit... We both
decided to offer a special sacrifice to God. It was my idea first, but of
course he had to be in on the act... I brought some sheaves of corn and some of
the fruit from the orchard, and laid them on the altar. Then along comes Mr.
Perfect with a lamb... one of the firstborn he said... What a waste! And yet
God accepted his offering and not mine. Then God gave me a lecture about not
scowling at my brother. What did he expect!? I could cheerfully have killed the
wee upstart there and then.
But I didn't. I decided to put it behind me and go
straight back to work, so I was for going out to the fields... I even invited
him to go with me.
But as we were walking through the field he started talking
about the offerings again, asking why mine wasn't accepted, was it the
offerings themselves, or my attitude or something else... And that was it. I'd
taken as much as I could stomach, and I turned round and I told him exactly how
I felt about him and Mum and Dad and God and his offerings... And I was so
angry I hit him, with the spade. And I hit him again and again and again...
And then the questions started. Cain, where's Abel?
Have you seen your brother? Do you know where Abel is? What is this? Am I his
keeper?
Selah
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