Oct 25, 2016


Every year between the months of August and November, our age gap spans a grand total of five years.  And then for remaining eight months of the year, that gap increases to six years.  By way of numbers, that sounds like quite a distance, but it didn't take long for me to realize that no matter the gap, we will forever hold strong.

“We’re all desperate to anchor our souls to something we can trust won’t change.” – Lysa Terkeurst

Our time together dates back almost forty years now.  I remember when she was in high school and I was in grade school; I would be there on those Saturday nights as she got herself ready for the high school dance.  Flat on my belly on her bed with my hands propped up under my chin, I would watch as she carefully applied makeup, and would listen intently to her phone conversations with friends about what they were going to wear, what time she was leaving, and what they were doing afterwards.  I looked up to her from my perch on her bed because I wanted desperately to emulate her every move. 

But you know, that's just how we feel about our hero's. 
And that's how I feel about her. 

My sister.

When I finally got to high school myself, she was just starting her college career, and as it turns out, my desire to imitate her life continued.  But high school was a challenging time for me.  It didn't seem nearly as fun or as carefree as she made it seem, and so I struggled.  Mind you, there were no cell phones back then, and I would often call to interrupt her idyllic college life – long distance - so that she could help me work out all of life’s questions and impossible math problems.  She was always there, waiting on the other end, and wouldn't you know it, she forever had an answer to both.  

Eventually, and without my permission, she went and got married (the nerve!) and in the most dramatic way I can come up with to explain how that felt is to say it was like losing a limb.  I never imagined I'd have to hand her over to someone else - to detach her from my very side, where I assumed she would always be.  It was terrifying to take another step forward without her.  And so, like any mature human being dealing with life, I cried real, ugly, sloppy tears the day she got married, mostly out of fear over what the path would look like without her to pave the way.

But oh, what a silly and foolish eighteen year old I was at the time, to believe that my future would possess any less of her love. 

I'm blessed to admit that I've been saved many times in my life.  My parents have saved me, my friends have saved me, and without a doubt, my faith has saved me.  But then there's my sister.  She has saved me...and then continues to save me again and again.  There have been two distinct and frightening times in my adult life where she has dropped everything to be by my side.  No matter where she was or what she was in the middle of, all of it fell away.  Nothing else ceased to exist in her world, except for my immediate needs.

My sister is my strongest anchor; unchanging.  She is the first one I reach out to if I need someone to bring me back to reality or put things in perspective.  She is the head of my tribe, my person, my lobster.  I can be brave and bold with her or down and out and scared out of my mind; it's irrelevant.  She reminds me that there is truth and goodness in this world and because of her, I will always have hope.

I could never love anyone as I love my sister.

May you be just as privileged to have an anchor like this to depend on in your own life.