What We Don't See: Grace Off the Page

The Power of the Gaps

One of my favorite things about the Bible is sometimes what's not there. The spaces between the verses where the details are left up to our imagination. Those narrative gaps invite us in. They let us wonder, reflect, and sometimes find ourselves within the story.

One such story is that of Jacob and Esau. Jacob, as we know, is famously awful to his brother. He tricks him, cheats him, and eventually flees for fear of his life when Esau threatens revenge. And then we follow Jacob. We journey through his triumphs and failures, his growth and transformation. But what about Esau?

Imagining Esau's Journey

We get this remarkable moment at the end of the story: Jacob returns and expects wrath, but Esau runs to him, embraces him, weeps with him. Esau is gracious and wise, mature and whole. But how did he get there? We don't know. That part of the story is left off the page. And that opens space for us.

What if Esau's unseen journey is the very thing that invites us to reflect on our own growth? What if, in the silent parts of his story, we are reminded that others, too, are changing and evolving? That maybe the people we've cast in old roles have been on their own winding road to healing?

The Old Stories We Tell

Jacob holds on to an old narrative. The last time he saw Esau, his brother was furious. Dangerous. A threat. And that story has calcified over the decades. Despite all Jacob has been through—even wrestling an angel and seeing the face of God—he returns to that same script. Esau, he assumes, is still that same angry man.

And maybe Jacob fears he's the same too. Still a deceiver. Still a manipulator. And so he sends wave after wave of gifts ahead of him to buffer the encounter. He lines up his family in a defensive order. He braces for conflict.

But then Esau surprises him.

A Different Kind of Prodigal

Esau runs to meet Jacob, throws his arms around him, and weeps. It's a moment of radical grace. And if it sounds familiar, that's because Jesus echoes it in the story of the prodigal son. There too, we find someone broken by their own choices, returning home, only to be met with unexpected love.

Jesus positions Jacob as the prodigal here. Not Esau. And that should give us pause, especially considering how much Jacob has amassed by this point. His wealth doesn't matter. His strategy can't protect him. Only reconciliation will bring him home.

Grace That Can't Be Bought

When Jacob offers his gifts, Esau responds simply: "I already have plenty, my brother. Keep what you have for yourself." This isn't a transaction. It's not restitution. It's grace. And in that grace, Jacob's schemes are laid bare. His manipulations fall apart. And he's embraced anyway.

Jacob may be the namesake of a nation, but in this moment, Esau is the hero. He embodies the maturity, the compassion, the growth that often goes unnoticed in our rush to follow the main character.

The Story Off the Page

What fascinates me is we never see how Esau gets there. We see his pain early on. His rage. His hurt. And then—nothing. Just a blank space until he reappears, transformed. That entire journey is left to our imagination.

And perhaps that's the point.

Because maybe you're Esau right now. Maybe you're carrying pain, betrayal, resentment. Maybe you've been hurt, and it was real, and you're still living in the shadow of that moment. I get it.

But maybe there's also an invitation here. Not to forget. Not to pretend it didn't happen. But to imagine a future that isn't beholden to that old story. To trust that healing is possible, even when it takes years. Even when it happens off the page.

Letting Go of the Old Story

Jacob is more than his mistakes. Esau is more than his hurt. And you? You're more than your worst moment.

But so is the person who hurt you.

Now, I'm not saying you need to let them back into your life. Some relationships can't be recovered. But maybe, just maybe, it's time to stop letting an old story dictate what's possible now. Maybe it's time to write a new chapter—for you.

And when you're ready, in God's grace, what you might find is they're not who they were either.