Dear Old Me,

It came.

Finally.  The day you dared to hoped for, the day you were afraid at times would never come…

The day the seasons changed.

Oh, joy in my heart.  Do you remember this?  Do you remember the pain, the fear, the anger?  Do you remember wondering if your heart would ever be in one piece again?  Do you remember wondering if you’d ever hear your parents laugh again?  Do you remember wondering if he would EVER GET IT?

Well, that day has come.

He gets it.

As I read these words, it really hit me, these are the words of a new man- words that I will never take for granted.  Words that are a gift from God.  Words that mean a new life is beginning for my brother, for my family.  A life of possibility, of joy.

Oh, world.  Do you know how happy I am?  For a year, I’ve watched him.  Skeptically at first, full of doubts and fears and disbelief.  Then, with a small thread of hope– maybe?  Is it real– is he changing?  Slowly, I’ve watched him taking steps, trying- even though he didn’t know exactly what he was moving towards.  I’ve been surprised, with each new revelation he has, with each moment of growth that I just couldn’t have imagined back then.  I’ve cheered his successes, and still been spooked at the bumps, wondering if he’d hold steady.  He has.  He’s jumping hurdles.  He’s doing it.  What I hoped for, prayed for in those darkest times, is happening.  He’s letting God save his life.

And while it’s happening in big, obvious ways in his life, it’s happening in small, quiet ways in ours.  Hurts being healed, ties being reknit, trust slowly rebuilt, forgiveness finding it’s way into hearts.

The season for mourning has passed.

It is time to rejoice- to sing- to dance, because one of the lost sheep has been found.  Welcome home, my brother, my friend.  I’ve missed you.

Let the old season fade away, and the new begin.

 

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