Getting His Brother Back

 

A brother offended

is harder to be won than a strong city:

and their contentions are

like the bars of a castle.

                                    -- Proverbs 18:19

           

            One time our daughter Beamer was mad at her older sister NeeNee. She put up a poster down by the street that said:

 

SISTR 4 SALE

OR MAYBE FREE

 

            Thank goodness, they worked it out before anybody "bought" her. It was funny, then. But fights between brothers and sisters in the adult years are no fun at all.

 

            Misunderstandings fester. Minor slights become major hurts. Communication is tough if you live far apart and see each other infrequently.

 

            This past Christmas, an old friend realized that he was arguing with his brother more than enjoying time with him on the rare occasions that they were together. They used to hang out together all day, every day, and had a blast. But that was in their carefree boyhoods, when they had everything in common, including an address.

 

In the decades since, their life paths have diverged pretty far apart. "Stuff" happened on both sides. Pride and defensiveness wedged between them. Our friend didn't really know what he had done wrong, but his brother was cold and distant.

 

This past Christmas, with his brother going through the hell of a divorce, their relationship had declined to the point of shouting, sniping and the silent treatment.

 

The level of trust and understanding between the two of them had hit a new low. Our friend's brother seemed to disdain him, and he knew that sometimes he could come off as self-righteous and judgmental. But he didn't mean to be; there was just a major disconnect. They were both trapped in stubborn pride.

 

He felt confused, sad and lonely, with a bleak foretaste of a future in which he would basically have no family.

 

He went back to the city where he lives and stewed about it. He'd tried everything he could think of to patch things up. But it was hopeless. As the January days passed, he felt worse and worse, and worried more and more. Finally, he tried one more thing:

 

He took it to the Lord.

 

The economy is so bad in his neck o' the woods that his church started a Sunday night prayer meeting. They call it "Service of Hope and Healing."

 

If you'd been laid off, or had money problems, a medical issue, teens driving you crazy, whatever it was . . . you could come on Sunday night. You'd find a warm welcome from people who wanted nothing from you but to give you a setting in which it would be easy to talk to God, and lay your burdens where they belong, on Him.

 

You could go around to different stations and learn a little about prayer, have someone pray with you, or just sit and think if you wanted to.

 

He felt a little conspicuous and kind of uneasy, but he went, intending to pray for a miracle of reconciliation, the restoration of a good relationship with his brother, like they used to have.

 

There was the laying on of hands.

 

They was individual prayer with someone a little older and wiser, who would keep your concerns totally confidential, but would add their prayers to yours.

 

There were prayer shawls, quiet songs, and "breath prayers," which are short one-liners that you can eke out when you don't even have the breath to pray, or any idea where to begin.

 

He appreciated the indoor water fountain that was set up, connecting the soothing sound of the water to the rite of baptism and the calming reminder that Jesus, the Water of Life, was right there beside him, so he could just "go with the flow."

 

He liked the incense, which hearkened back to the gifts of the Magi to the Baby Jesus. He learned that the early Christians burned incense because they knew it would absorb into their clothes and differentiate them from nonbelievers. He liked learning that people of faith burn incense when they pray because they think that as the fragrant smoke rises, it symbolizes your prayers going up to heaven.

 

He really liked the last station. It had to do with the positive connotations of fire: for purification, correction, and cleansing. Fire can be scary and dangerous, or it can bring healing and restoration, he realized. It's the symbol of a desire to change and a willingness to be conformed to the way Jesus wants us to live and think.

 

He wrote down his burden about his brother on a piece of paper. He included a confession of his role in the conflict, and a desire to start over. He crumpled up the note, tossed it into the big dish, and set it on fire with a candle. He added a quick, silent prayer: "I want my brother back, Lord."

 

He watched the paper burn as it shriveled to ash. He could literally feel the worry leave him . . . and curl straight up, with that smoke, to a waiting, awesome God.

 

He went home, feeling relief and release. He had a good night's sleep for the first time in ages.

 

Next morning, what do you think was in his email inbox? A message . . .

 

. . . from his brother.

 

It knocked the wind right out of him.

 

The email said something like, "I couldn't sleep, and was thinking about you, so I got up at 5 a.m. to tell you that I love you and really miss you. With this divorce, I need you now, more than ever, in my life. So I want to apologize for the way I've been treating you, and talk to you about maybe getting some counseling. You know me better than anyone, so I was hoping maybe we could talk."

 

Gasping for breath, by the time my friend had dialed the last number of his brother's phone number, he was weeping. He choked out a big apology, too, and told about the prayer service the night before and what he had prayed for.

 

The two of them practically shorted out the phone lines, they both were so flooded with excitement and emotion . . . not to mention renewed faith in the One Who said that when we pray, He will hear.

 

And He does hear.

 

He does!

 

God knows what we need, even before we do.

 

And He wants nothing better than to give it to us.

 

Sometimes, we just need a little help to realize that when we want God to act, all we have to do is ask. The wait is rarely as short as my friend's was - but the result is always as certain, that He hears, He cares, and He'll set things straight.

 

Bottom line: we need to quit worrying, and lay out all our burdens on Him and trust Him, instead.

 

Then He will move heaven and earth - and brothers' hearts - to prove that nothing, no nothing, not ever, not no how, comes anywhere close to the power of the wonders of His love. †