Living Up to Our Position

Tears filled Evan’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around my waist, and said, “I’m so happy Meg is still herself after surgery. I was so worried Mom, because I didn’t know if she would be.”

It almost hurt to hear. Sure, I knew he was worried. I knew he didn’t know what was going to happen, and what life would be like. The questions he had before we left, I didn’t know how to answer…not when my questions matched his own.

I thought back to the only answer I had, and how insufficient it was. For a 9 year old boy who’s always watched out and protected his little sister, how helpless he must have felt when he begged me not to take her. He demanded answers, and all I had was, “I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. We’ll go on all the same, and we’ll love her all the more.”

The majority of the time, Meg is still Meg. There’s just times throughout the day when her head hurts something awful, or all her energy vanishes, or the nerves in her mouth and face don’t feel right. Sometimes she will sit wherever she is and stare in front of her. She reaches her threshold and she’s done. She doesn’t smile as easily, she doesn’t laugh as often, and her tolerance levels, are anything but tolerable.

As Evan hugged me, I was aware of his determination. He had been prepared to love Meg no matter how she came back. He would have denied his disappointment, busy convincing her, she’s ok. I know, because he does it now when she’s not.

It surprises me how Meg listens to her brother. The whole world is going to pot one minute, and the next, the reassuring words of a boy less than a decade old, make it bearable.

It reminds me how people can live up to what others think or believe about them. When someone is treated the way they are believed to be, a lot of times if they are or not, they can become it. Growing up, I knew I was brave simply because my grandmother always told me I was. Bravery could overrule intimidation or fright because I believed what she said. I didn’t know I didn’t have it in me. Her belief, made me so.

It makes me wonder why I don't believe more in who Jesus says I am. Would I change what I say and how I live, believing my position as heir to the throne? Would I impart grace from the mercy I’ve received, knowing only Jesus sets me free. Would I warm the world a little more, living in the light? What level of importance would I feel, knowing I’ve already been chosen by God?

Maybe it’s why God wrote it all down, so people like me can always be reminded. So we’d know who we are and who we’re not, in times of hardship and despair, moments of confusion, and especially on the days we need to be comforted…and know we’re ok.

And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God's glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.     Romans 8:17