My baby brother is sick. He is my brother but he is also my baby. Have I not rocked him to sleep, taken him for his shots, changed his bottom, heard his stories. After all, I even gave him his name. But now, he is sick. He has a mental disorder and my compassionate, charming caring and comforting brother is sick.
My heart is so heavy it can hardly beat. I try to compartmentalize the anxiety but my mind is open planned. The dividers I’d erected have crashed under the weight of the pain I feel. He is the child I do not have and I love him as I do my many siblings
Nevertheless, he elicits feelings of protection that makes me long to make his world safe, to flood his world with trust and hope. He is a great human being: intelligent, unselfish and supportive. He strives even when ill to think of others and he longs for an independent life. But he is ill and there are few resources to help someone who has so many skills. Of course tax dollars buy resources and powerful lobbyists set priorities. Babies are not the only group who need a voice, who cannot speak for them. Sometimes when we are sick, we cannot help ourselves. Well-intentioned laws designed to preserve privacy and prevent abuse or exploitation has an unintended consequence. It stops loved ones from securing help and being a voice for those in need of care.
I think of the man who was let down through the roof by his friends to be healed by Jesus. Today, it seems that in similar circumstances, one would be charged with kidnapping. Yet the average family does care and cares passionately for those they love.
Today, I break my promise. I ask God to help my brother. Although, during this Lenten time, I just wanted to be with God and feel His heart, I could not resist asking Him for this one thing…my brother’s well being . It just shows how much I need Him but I know that through my concerns at this time, a loving God is be with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment