The first time I called one of my brothers here in India “brother” I felt like I swallowed a frog. “Brother, can you help me carry a water tank? Wow, I said brother really low, that sounded so weird, and my voice even cracked. “Of course sister!” he said with a smile and ran to get the water for my team.
Sister… my heart melted…That response is something I think my heart often longs for…protection and help from a brother. Someone whose focus is just The Lord and I can just be, me.
I started thinking about why we use those terms here in my ministry. My mind listed a lot of reasons. Modesty, respect for culture, la dah dah… Then I realized something, I value being a sister. Being a well loved sister is actually something I have a great desire for in my life. I’ve experienced brokenness in this with in my own family. So, God used some little brothers in India to show me that he knows me. He provided what was stolen from me in seven folds and I now have a whole house full of Christian brothers who drop water on me from the balcony and laugh, throw popcorn outside at us, drive like maniacs to our ministry, carry water jugs for us, and always call me sister.
