As we were playing my parents walked in the door and I'll never forget the smiles on their faces. Mom didn't waste any time (I'm not sure she even had her purse off her shoulder). She glowingly walked through the door and announced that in a few months there would be a new baby in the family.
I was so excited!
The second memory I have before that sweet bundle arrived to us was when we all went to the doctor's office to find out if mom was pregnant with a boy or girl. We all went into the room as the doctor set her up for her ultra sound. As the moment got closer I told everyone that I couldn't see yet. I wanted to be surprised. So, I went back out to the waiting room and I got out my Tinkerbell nail polish and attempted to "stay in the lines" as I painted my nails. A young couple were sitting beside me waiting to see the doctor and we struck up a conversation. I remember being very insistent that I was going to have a baby sister, telling them I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm sure they stole a few smiles and silent giggles between them. I was certainly a handful of a girl.
Then my older brother opened the door and without a warning announced (with an attitude too suggestive of I-told-you-so) "It's a boy!" I couldn't believe it. There was no way. I wanted a sister and now my boasting brother has lied to me! I rushed back in to the room (nails still wet) to find my mom and dad smiling from ear-to-ear. Then I saw the monitor with the word, "boy" written at the top. I asked the doctor if he was sure - he was.
I'm not sure when it finally settled that I was going to have another brother - and I don't know when it was that I finally liked the idea, but I do remember there was a point that I got excited. Mommy was going to have a baby and I was going to be a sister again. I wish I could remember if I was a good sister-to-be and helped my mother out with cleaning and cooking during her pregnancy. At seven years old, I don't know that I fully understood what was going on in her belly, but I knew that I was going to be a sister again...that had me excited and definitely impatient.
On March 16, 1990 our family welcomed my brother, John to the world. I fell in love with that little baby at first sight. I was so proud of my mom, my dad, and now this sweet face. He was wrapped in a blue blanket and had the perfect face. As he grew older he became everything from the annoying little shadow to the bothersome bathroom hog to the dedicated scripture reader to my best friend.
I was always protective of him, but it wasn't until he was around two years old when my being protective of him rose to a new and deeper level.
We lived in Post, Texas and I was about nine years old. We were being home schooled by our mother and made half the living room our classroom. We had the American and Christian flags hanging, a little bookshelf to serve as our "library" of school books, a teacher's desk, and each of us (including John) had our own school desk. I was finished with all my homework for the day and Jason was finishing up his with mom at her desk. John was usually crawling or walking around close by so no one was really paying much attention as his exact location . He was a good baby and never really got into any trouble. I was sitting on the couch watching television when he started crying. It was coming from behind the couch around the area our desks were at, so I didn't bother to turn around - I simply told him to stop crying. A few seconds went by and he was still crying. Why wasn't mom telling him to stop? She wasn't too far away so I knew she heard. Again, I told him to stop crying as I continued to stare at the TV.
But he didn't.
Finally, I raised my voice even louder and turned around to make sure he heard it. When I did I noticed something shiny coming from his little, two-year old foot: it was a needle. My heart skipped several beats as I leaped over the couch and to his side. I screamed to my mother as I looked to see that, in fact, there was a sewing needle almost halfway in his foot. No wonder. The poor baby was obviously in a lot of pain and no one was paying attention. What made my stomach stir even worse was the fact that the needle belonged to me. I had kept my cross stitch things in the desk. I didn't put my cross stitch up carefully enough and the needle found its way to the ground which was now in my baby brother's foot. I felt awful. Add the feeling of being responsible to that and things in my heart and mind changed. That day I held him in my arms until he begged to be let down.
I will never forget that day and I will never forget how it has shaped how I feel about my baby brother. Although, he is no longer a baby...he is all grown up and this last Saturday we celebrated his 23rd birthday. Throughout all these years my being a protector over him has never ceased. I can remember countless times tucking him to bed, reading with him, playing with him, watching him, and loving him. I've been his babysitter, sister, friend, and with all sincerity, an advisor when he's needed it. Sometimes it was asked of me and other times I've felt it was my "duty" to tell him, whether he liked it or not! I pulled the "older sister" card one too many times!
Encouraging him and being there for him have been my favorite responsibilities as his older sister. But I am more amazed at how much he encourages and has been there for me. It never seems to get old or stop amazing me. I'm truly humbled by his love.
Over the past 23 years he has grown to develop many gifts and talents (which he will be the first to give God the glory for). I can think of many things that have impressed me over the years: his intricate and detailed drawings of houses and buildings (all which included everything from electric sockets to door hinges to the cracks in cement sidewalks), his dedication at nine years old to read the Bible cover-to-cover and study scripture, watching him come out of his shy shell and into a leader of many, his constant sense of humor that seems to have our family in stitches all the time, and his drive to be excellent in everything he does (moment of pride: he's at the top of his class, received word he is accepted to grad school and now on his way to a prominent Fellowship Program). All of this is exemplary of how my parents have raised a wonderful young man, but none of these things compare to how much he has impressed me with the relationship he has with his Savior.
John is a man of many talents, but his devotion to live his life pleasing the Father has, bar none, been his biggest accomplishment. He understands so much of who he is in Christ and the depth of his walk with the Lord. When he prays, he doesn't allow anything to distract him. When he teaches, he is quick to show Christ in his delivery. When he does anything, he does it as unto the Lord. He is a man after God's own heart. He inspires others to follow Christ without even saying a word. He is no longer that shy boy - he is a bold and confident man of God. A true and godly hero.
But with all of his growing up and maturing into this amazing, godly, and intelligent man, he has not outgrown my protection, nor will he ever. There will never be a moment that I let my guard down. I will always be there for him, find ways to ensure his safety (spiritually and physically), and keep a sword nearby for when he finds himself in battle. I will put myself in front of him when danger is present and stand guard...whether he likes it or not. He is worth more than gold. He is my brother.
And I love him.
Happy Birthday, baby brother. Sissy is proud of you.
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