I went to my brother's this week. I needed a break. Work was burning me out. I figured a few days of spotty internet would help.
What I wasn't expecting was how 'at sea' I would feel. My brother recently converted to Christianity. I call him a convert mostly because he belong to the church of 'I don't give a shit you religious nut bags' for a solid 28 years. Now that he's a believer with me, our relationship has a strange new dynamic. I'm also one of his closest friends, which is weird for me, because he is definitely not one of mine. But that's my brother. He was never much for friends.
But there are things I really never plan on talking to my brother about. Believer or not, he'd think the Rabbit Hole made me insane and that sparkly marshmallows embodies everything he hates about humanity. So I try to keep the conversation where he's comfortable, but sometimes it slips away from me.
And then I toss and turn at 2:30am wondering what the influences of my words will be. If he still sees me as a teenage child or a full adult. If he has any indication all that I see, or know. If he even cares. Will my words build him up, or will they confuse him? Why didn't I spend days in prayer about it?
I long for a deep relationship with my brother, but I doubt it'll ever be that way. Though, nothing is impossible through Christ. I've watched Jesus turn him from a real dbag into a decent brother in two years. In a decade, maybe I'll have the brother I've always wanted.
I just wish I knew how to be the sister he's always wanted.
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