Brotherly Love

This blog as been ruminating in my head for some time now. As someone who likes to have all my 'issues' figured out, resolved, and wrapped up with a pretty bow before putting them out there, this one has been a bit challenging. I've also realized that as I've delayed writing it, God has been putting more pieces together and that has been awesome to see.

It's been 15 months since my book was published. Since I didn't know exactly what I was expecting when it finally came out, it's been hard to measure the 'after,' although I have noticed some interesting things. Friends and family who were so vocal in their support during the publishing process went radio silent once the book actually came out. Friends who were so excited to buy it and read it never said another word once they received their copy. Of course there have been good things too. Friends, and even family, have said they found the courage to tell their own stories after reading mine and passed my book along to others who have walked a similar path. Those kind of compliments are the best and the reason I continue to put my story out here.

While all silence regarding my abuse is hurtful, I've come to realized it's the silence from my family that hurts the most. Most in my family of origin have never read my book and probably never will. Last Christmas, while packing my stuff to go to Arizona to spend the holiday with my older brother and his family, a friend asked if I was taking some copies of my book. My immediate response was, "No. No one down there cares that I wrote a book." My friend was meaning copies to give to a favorite book store of mine down there but that's not where my thoughts went. My dad has said he is proud of me for writing my book but the whole situation still makes him so angry and he won't even talk about it, let alone read about it. My older brother, who was there when every single part of my story unfolded, will not even acknowledge anything happened, let alone say a single kind word in support or validation. Yes, I may have been the only one in my immediate family who was abused, but we were ALL affected. Our lives were ALL changed the night I told and in the weeks, months, and years to come. So why do I have to shoulder it alone? I do have the unwavering support of so many people in my life, who have been absolutely wonderful and encouraging, but there's something some incredibly, heartbreakingly lonely, about being the only one in my family willing to talk about it, to face it. I know all of my own willingness to face the hard things and talk about them comes from my relationship with Christ. I can't even imagine trying to wade through the muddy waters of brokenness, betrayal, hurt, all of it, without an anchor and HOPE in Christ. Regardless, it still leaves me feeling so alone.

For several months, my relationship with my older brother has been so heavy on my heart. It's been broken for so long. God created relationships, especially families of origin, to be a safe haven. A place of refuge in the storm. Older brothers are supposed to be a girl's protector and encourager, someone she can go to for advice and counsel, a trusted friend. I see other women with that kind of relationship with their bothers and it makes my heart ache. Mine is the complete opposite. My brother and I don't talk at all throughout the year and only see each other at Christmas. While at his house, I always feel as though I'm walking on eggshells. He has this incredible way of talking down to me and making me feel about an inch tall and incredibly stupid. I feel that I always have to have my guard up, ready for attack, and it's exhausting. 

I have prayed so hard for this relationship in recent months. In tears, I've cried out to God for restoration and reconciliation, knowing only He can make it happen. I've asked Him to reveal to me what things I own in our broken relationship and the grace to forgive and let things go. I recently read an article about setting boundaries in wounded relationships and one line jumped out at me: the other person in the relationship has to be willing to reconcile too. In my prayers, I had been putting all the pressure and responsibility of restoration on my own shoulders. A huge burden was lifted and peaceful relief flooded my soul as I realized God showing me that until my brother is ready to face the hard things and do what it takes to make them right, no healing can happen. I realized it's a responsibility that belongs to both of us. I can continue to pray for God to make me ready but reconciliation can happen only if/when my brother is also willing.   

Having that burden lifted doesn't ease the ache of not having a brotherly relationship God created me to have. It's still a gaping hole in my heart and in my life. Then I read this quote from Jen Wilkin, "The family of God is meant to be where the motherless have mothers, the fatherless have fathers, and where rivals are made brothers and sisters." In taking that a bit farther, I realized the church should be where I find my true brothers. When I'm looking for those men who will protect me, encourage me, and be there for advice and counsel, I don't need to look any farther than the church family God has given me. In this family, I have found moms and dads, sisters, grandparents, and yes, brothers. Brothers who know and acknowledge my story and stand by in support and encouragement. In the end, in my deepest of hearts, I know these are the relationships that matter because they are eternity bound and I take comfort in this promise: "And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life." Matthew 19:29