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Meeting my New Brother


I can't count the times that my family I grew up in would be out shopping and people would: 
1.  Count us. 
2.  Comment on our poor Dad having six girls and no boys "to do the work."  Little did they know.  

Growing up with six girls makes them strong, independent and a tad bull headed.  But...we always wanted a boy.  Each time we found out that Mom was expecting, we hoped and prayed for a boy.  Finally, I brought home a boy from college and married him.  

On our one year anniversary we were interning and the family came to visit.  And introduce to us...our boy.

This little five year old dark headed, wild eyed and energetic boy.  Of course we all fell in love with him.  He was family.  He is ours.  

Even though he had lived in eighteen foster homes up until that point.  Even when he pushed everyone away out of habit and abuse.  

Growing up was difficult for him with demons biting at his heels the entire way. 

In fact, to this day I'm not for sure that he understands the complete acceptance and love that we have for him.  

That he is family.  That he is ours.

Today, he almost lost his life and saved a woman's life.   Tonight he lies in a hospital bed recovering. 

BUT...he is surrounded by family...in person and in thoughts and prayers. 

Whether bound by blood or bound by heart...family is family!  And tonight I'm thankful for God's hand on my brother.



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