A Week With My Brother
It’s now been a week since I picked my brother Daniel up from his home to bring him here with me. When I picked him up the intent was to take him to church last Friday, have him spend the night at my place and take him home Saturday morning. I’m so glad reality ran in a different direction.
Daniel’s been a real pleasure to visit with this week. Not only has he not taken another drink since early Saturday, he’s gained at least 10 lbs. It’s good to see him actually eating something.
All week long he helped me in several ways, from photographing cars to packing my stuff in preparation to move. We’ve probably driven a thousand miles together this week, talking and listening to one of the comedy channels on XM Radio. I’ve snuck in some Christian music from time to time to see what he thinks (he prefers the comedy channel).
I took him to one of the small group meetings I attend through Bethel Church. I knew he’d like it if for no other reason than the fact that several attractive girls also attend. Daniel could safely be classified as “girl crazy”.
Of course, that’s not the only reason I took him. He wanted to have a real encounter with God, and I wanted him to meet a lot of people his own age who have. This particular home group is filled with Bethel students: young people who are encountering God on many different levels. That was a really good evening for Daniel. He experienced some very good things and had a lot of people speaking with him, encouraging him and welcoming him.
To be honest with you, I think this brother of mine is going to do some really great things. He has a boldness to walk up to people on the streets and talk to them about anything, not really caring how they react. I know that God can use that.
I really want to share much more about my brother, and will do so in future blog entries, no doubt. But at the moment I need to wake him up and get to work. We started moving everything out my house yesterday, and need to finish up today. I’ve gotta be out of here by 5pm. As I mentioned in the last blog entry, the bank owns my house now too. Moving would be much harder, both physically and emotionally, if my brother wasn’t here to help.

