A Jeep In Summer

Ain't No Hurry, No Need To Worry

It's a rainy Sunday, I'm taking care of the kids, well, they're watching a movie while I take some time out for writing. What a full weekend--a birthday party, weekend guests, chips and dip, sleeping on the couch, fighing the mama of all sinus headaches, gearing up to meet my housemate's fiancee for the very first time, getting bad news from South Carolina.

You know, I've stopped being happy every time the phone rings. I used to think, "Wow, someone wants to talk to me." Now, it could be anything. Death could stretch across a continent and an ocean from the roads of Moscow, Idaho to the basement of an Irish pub in Germany. Separation shows up from the ocean edge of South Carolina. "Where are you?" becomes a very important question. "Where are you? What can I do for you? How did it come to this?"

I can hear it in your voice, I immediately know that you are not where you should be, mentally, physically, spiritually. I don't know how you can be so calm, and I wonder if calm indicates despair. It has come to this, and here we are. Here I will stand, even if there is nothing else I can do. Here I stand by you. I'll take you where we all need to go--to prayer.

You know, I know you know this, a brother and sister don't take vows to always love and cherish each other. But God put you in my life for a lifetime, and we are called to walk through certain times together, through laughter and tears, through birth and death, and I will rejoice when you rejoice and weep when you weep. Whatever I can fight and conquer for you I will. I will stand by your side, I will even stand in front of you when you need your brother. Here we are, and here I stand. This is love, and though we do not share genetic blood, this blood is strong. Despite what the actual family tree might say, you are my sister, I am your brother, and I stand with you.