Today we’re sharing an excerpt from The Melody of Grace Bible study by Whitney Capps.
If we were to meet in person, we’d be sitting at a great little Mexican restaurant enjoying queso, guac, and chips. I’d sit across from you, enjoying my frosty Coke Zero® as we chatted about everything! I love getting to know people. I’m an introvert, functioning as an extrovert in short bursts. Point being, I’d probably ask an annoying number of questions about you because relationships that run deep feed my soul. I love getting beyond the casual, surface-level stuff.
I’ll go first.
Hi. My name is Whitney. I’m a small-town girl living just outside Atlanta with all boys and cancer. Before the last five years, I’d tell you my life has been laced with grace. I grew up in a lovely town where I still live. My childhood best friend, Lori, is still my best friend. My parents, brother, his wife, and my in-laws are some of my favorite people. I have a husband I adore and four sons who are tangible gifts of grace. I married an impossibly good man who loves and serves me and models fidelity and integrity to our boys at every turn. And those boys? Any good in them is all and only Jesus. Chad and I are constantly amazed at the Lord’s kindness. Parenting has been hard. We’re in a constant state of prayerful insecurity, asking the Lord to cover our failures and sins. Yes, when we look at Cooper, Dylan, Ryder, and Tate, we see grace.
But five years ago, cancer became a part of our story. I have small bowel adenocarcinoma. It’s aggressive and most often terminal. The average life expectancy is eighteen months. I’ve been carrying this diagnosis and story for nearly five years. It’s been hard. Unbelievably hard. Yes, we have tasted and seen that the Lord is good. He’s been faithful, of course. But grace has felt fleeting. Delivered meals get eaten, and the dishes washed. Cards are read and discarded. Flowers fade. I got caught looking and living from one grace to the next. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I can tell you it’s exhausting and inconsistent. As steadfast as our friends and church family have been, we aren’t meant to live on acts of grace alone. Grace isn’t merely or even primarily what the Lord does for us. Grace is God Himself.
That’s why when considering how to start studying about grace, I knew I wanted to begin with the source of grace: God Himself. We cannot begin to understand the actions of God’s grace until we recognize His character of grace. But what’s the best way to explain that truth? I thought about composing a doctrinal treatise, working through several passages of Scripture to establish a systematic understanding of the God of grace. While that approach certainly has merit, I don’t feel like it really resonates with the tenor of The Melody of Grace. Rather, I want you to see the heart of God. So, I chose a different route.
Let’s begin with a story.
You may be familiar with the story in Luke 15:11-24—the parable of the prodigal son.
For the longest time I thought the word prodigal meant wayward or rebellious. Instead, it means to be “characterized by profuse or wasteful expenditure: lavish.”1 Keep that in mind.
If I were to rewrite the ending of this story according to the character and values of the world, I can see it going something like this:
The son arrives at home and finds his father hard at work in the barn. The father gruffly greets him, then launches into a blistering scolding for his actions. He castigates the boy for his recklessness and the shame he has brought to the family. The son quietly gets his apology out, including his plan to hire on as a servant. The father “harumphs” at him, shakes his head, and is silently non-committal for an agonizing few minutes. Then without looking at his son, the father tells him to throw his stuff in the bunkhouse, find the foreman, and go to work. He tells the boy this is a temporary arrangement, and they’ll see how it goes. His last words to his son are “You’ve got a lot to make up for.” The boy trudges off and the father goes back to work.
Think that sounds possible?
But that’s not what happens in the story. Instead, grace happens.
Instead of harsh condemnation, there was joy, blessing, restoration, and celebration! There was no talk of what the son deserved for what he did. No calculations on how much the boy took and what he owed. All was forgiven.
That’s crazy, right?
No. That’s a picture of grace. The son had done everything wrong. Acted selfishly. Wasted resources. Disgraced the family. But all was forgotten when the son came home.
Of course, this story shows us the heart of our gracious God. In fact, as some scholars have suggested, the “prodigal” moniker could refer to the father as well. He lavishly extended love and grace to the wayward son who came running to him.
And we, like the son, have wantonly separated ourselves from our Father. We have rebelled, chosen our own way. Our sin is dark and deep. But with our first step of repentance, He comes running to us with arms of grace open wide to restore us into intimate fellowship with Him.
It’s hard to get a better picture of grace than that.
Now, if I oversaw the filming of this story, I’d roll the credits as the party is in full swing. But, interestingly enough, Jesus didn’t end the story there.
In Luke 15:25-32, the older brother copped an attitude. He felt cheated and taken for granted and wanted no part of the party. He chose criticism and condemnation over celebration. But the loving father spoke kindly and invitingly to the older brother, reminding him of all he still had as the father’s son. He had not been displaced or pushed aside; he was still in his rightful place with all the benefits that position bestowed. And in essence, the story closes with the father inviting the older brother again to the party, reminding him of the need to celebrate.
Can I be honest? I struggled to include and interpret this story rightly. Why? One reason is I don’t often see myself as the prodigal. (That’s its own kind of self-deception.) But what bothered me the most was that I identified most closely with the older brother. Grace here doesn’t feel fair.
And you know what? It isn’t fair, but it’s not unfair to us. It’s unfair to God! The scales are uneven; He always gives more than He receives. We are indebted to Him. He gives us what we don’t deserve and bears the burden of grace on His shoulders. The clearest view of this is the cross.
Looking for fairness isn’t a problem unique to us. Jesus had the self-righteous religious leaders in sight with the depiction of the older brother. They had no room in their religion or their hearts for the “sinners and tax collectors.” In fact, it was their complaint about Jesus mingling with these outcasts that prompted this parable (Luke 15:1-2).
As much as I want to shake my head and be disgusted with these religious leaders, I need to remember how easily and often I look down my spiritual nose at the unlovely, the degenerates, and those I deem “tax collectors and sinners” in my field of vision. I forget the Father has opened His arms of grace to all sinners—them and me. Instead of writing them off, I need to invite them in. The grace I have received, I must extend to them.
Want to learn more about The Melody of Grace Bible study? Watch the promo video below for a sneak peek or view a free sample and teaching video clips here.
Work Cited
- Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, s.v. “prodigal,” accessed April 13, 2026, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/prodigal.
