This morning my eleven-year-old brother and I were talking about how our eighteen-year-old brother goes back to college in two weeks, and I was saying how great it feels to never be going back to school again.
Matthew(the younger one) says “Yeah, now you get to live with us forever!”
I remind him that “forever” means until July. He just rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, whatever. I know that. I mean AFTER your race thing, THEN you’ll live with us forever!”
“Um, no…probably not. How do you know I won’t move out or get married or something when I get back?”
He says, “Because you love your family more than anybody!”
I told him I love Jesus even more, and he asks, completely confused, “Well duh. What does that have to do with you leaving us and never coming back?”
And I thought of this verse…
If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.(Luke 14:26)
I don’t know if poor little Matthew literally believes that my being willing to never see him again(if that’s what God eventually calls me to) means I hate him. But I do know that my love for everything else should look like hate in comparison to my love for Jesus. Apparently that’s working out just fine…and it’s starting to make me a little sad.
Really I just feel bad that I don’t feel bad. Not one bit of me would rather be home than on the mission field. My family on the other hand are so sad for me to leave them, and I think my being so excited about it makes them even sadder. It isn’t that I’m jumping to get away from them, it’s that I can’t wait to go help people…but they can’t always see the difference.
It’s hard enough to get my mom to understand that, much less my baby brother.
But he’s a wonderful little person, and a smart one. He’s been calling me a missionary since the first time I worked at camp; he’ll be okay with all this soon enough. =)
