I have a brother. Not a lot of people know that because I rarely talk about him. His life has been full of sad circumstances and stupid decisions – a story full of villains but with only a handful of heroes. I am sorry to say I am not counted among the heroes.

My parents had two girls already when they felt compelled to adopted John. It was an amazing thing they did – trusting their faith in God and opening their home to a child who was suffering in an unspeakably abusive situation. Although it was a decision they made nearly 40 years ago, they continue to be his parents and love him with a commitment that I frankly cannot understand. Funny though… it seems familiar… more on that in a bit.

Eventually, I came along and joined the family as their favorite child (prove me wrong!). I don’t know how old I was when I realized that there was something different about my big brother. As I grew up I stopped looking up to him. As it turns out John has a problem with his mental capacity. He operates on the level of young teenager and he’d hit that ceiling as I was reaching my formative years.

Enter the villains.

The world is full of people who want to prey on the weak minded and John was a willing victim. He started a relationship with a girl at the bus stop of a high school and decided that they were in love and that they should be married. My parents pleaded with him to rethink it and they urged him not to but he was an adult and married into what can only be described as a clan of bottom feeders. The kind of people you see on Jerry Springer and think “There’s no way people live like that.” He chose that life and I wrote him off right then and there. I saw how he’d hurt my mom and dad and I knew there was no turning back.

After a while that relationship produced children – little Johnny and his younger sister April. I softened a bit to be an uncle for the first time and looking back I remember how much my parents showered those kids with love. When they’d visit they’d be doted on and prayed over because they’d always return to that seedy life that my brother was chasing. You might say they weren’t their “real” grandchildren but you wouldn’t say that if you saw them.

It came as no surprise to me when the relationship fell apart and it began years of drifting for John. I kept him out of my heart and mind and would only hear occasional stories from my parents who – again – wouldn’t stop loving him. Honestly I’m not exactly sure of his whereabouts for a few years but I know it involved other questionable women and at least one more kid. He was smart enough to know who to turn to when trouble hit. My parents would agonize over him and would support him when he needed it. I had constructed such a wall between John and myself that I secretly judged my parents for accepting him back.

Recently John made a bad choice that will be with him for a while. It is a very sad story that really exposes how much his mental capacity has affected him and how he is addicted to people who take advantage of him. This mistake made it impossible for my parents to support him  in their traditional way but he is never far from their thoughts and hearts. Despite everything. Despite them knowing his promises are empty, despite their doubts, despite a long history of failures. They love.

I do not. But recently I’ve been realizing what role I’ve really been playing in this story and I want to change it.

Have you heard the story of The Prodigal Son? It’s a parable Jesus told (read it here) about a guy who has two sons and one of them decides to leave, take his share of the money, and go off his own. Eventually that son squanders his money and gets in trouble and goes running home for help.  NOTE: Please don’t just accept his horrible paraphrasing if you haven’t read it. I’d suggest you do. When the father sees his son coming home he runs out to meet him, hugs him, and throws a party.

What a beautiful visual of forgiveness. When we’re roughed up and embarrassed and desperate we don’t get an “I Told You So” or  “Too bad, so Sad” but God runs to us with open arms because we’ve returned. I have seen no clearer example of this in my 34 years than my parents and John. As they accept and love a child that is not technically their blood, so God loves me. Relentlessly and unconditionally in a way that – frankly – I cannot understand.

But there is another part of that story. When the party is getting started the older son comes to his father and basically says, “What the hell, Dad? I’ve been here the whole time and didn’t screw up and why are you giving him a party?”  I can think of no clearer example of that son than me. I’ve allowed hate in my heart to cut me off from my brother and I’ve looked at him condescendingly for many, many years. I told myself it was because I knew better than to trust him but really I just didn’t want to be vulnerable. I was protecting myself and it meant that I couldn’t understand why parents loved him so much.

I’d like to change that.  I don’t know when I’ll get a chance or what will come of it but I know there are things I need to confess…

Dear John,

I’m sorry for being a villain in your story. I’m sorry for not telling you this in person. I’m sorry for everything that happened to you when you were younger and that some people have treated you badly your entire life when you thought they were your friends. I’m sorry I’ve been a bad big brother to you.

John, I believe things happen for a reason. I remember the story from years ago when you and my sisters were playing hide and seek. Penny found an old fridge and thought it was the perfect hiding space but she couldn’t open from the inside. I heard how my parents frantically searched for her and you were the one who found her. I believe you saved her life.  But, John, that’s not your only destiny.

I believe you have a future. I believe you have a journey still yet to take and I believe that no matter how distracting and enticing the world might be – it cannot offer you a tenth of the love and support that you find with your family. Trust me, John.

Your life hasn’t been easy. No one is guaranteed a good day but you’ve had too few. I don’t know why that is but I do know you still have a choice to make every day between chasing the light or chasing the darkness.

And when you think about it that way … you and I have a lot in common. After all, we are brothers.