It’s been a coupl’a years or so since we last saw him. Today, I was a bit shocked because of how much weight he had lost, plus the mustache.
It’s not easy to hear about someone’s pain, specially because you know that you can’t do anything about it. Even if you could, sometimes you just know you’re not the one who’s supposed to do anything about it. And that’s an even heavier thing to bear.
He said he was amazed that he could be as free as he was with me. It was like the breaching of a dam as his honesty poured out, complete with the b**ch, p.i.’s (Tagalog for s.o.b.), and other equivalents of four-letter words. But there was no relish in the cussing. It was real. He was hurting.
He’d always been one of my little (though definitely larger) brothers. His sister and I were friends.
‘Nuff said. This is about him.
It was really heart-breaking for me tonight to listen to the pain. If there was one sin he could commit to make God end his life, he would do it, just to stop the pain.
And all I could do was dare him: you want to break it or heal it? There’s nothing to heal, he asserts. Yes, there is, I kept countering. But you have to decide to want the healing before you can see that there’s something worth healing.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I should just let it die. But more than my love for this brother, I know God loves him more. And more than his pain, I know Jesus’ heart aches more.
I believe Jesus wants to heal the broken, hurting hearts, save the breaking, fading marriage. But gentleman that He is, He won’t heal unless they ask Him too. There will be grace should they choose the breaking instead of the healing, of that I am sure.
I feel stupid now, wanting to fight for something that those involved are giving up on. But I can’t help it. He’s my brother. In the end, as he prepared to leave, I relented:
“Don’t think about this now. Just enjoy God for now.”
And as for me, I will trust the God who loves this younger brother to know how to bring about the ending that will glorify Him the most.