Blessed

I have been blessed to grow up in a family of four girls--yep, I have three younger sisters. We are all two years apart. Right now, our ages are 27, 25, 23, and 21. I sometimes get an inkling of how stressful that must have been on my parents' hearts--good thing two of my sisters are getting equipped to handle any future medical issues that may result from said stress.

My sisters and I have had our ups and downs, but I think it's safe to say that we have always gotten along eerily well, especially for growing up together in a three bedroom, two bathroom house with no basement. Essentially, the thing I now know to be privacy did not exist at my house. I always shared a bedroom. And a bathroom (which was by far the more difficult). Not that it was a bad thing, in hindsight. I love my family and realize now how much we learned and how close a relationship was bonded through my time under the same roof as them.

I didn't realize then how close we were or were becoming. Which is funny, particularly because we didn't fight as much as you might think. Definitely not the screaming, hair pulling, door slamming kind of fighting. I mean, I'm sure that must have happened on rare occassions, but what I remember more of is the playing outside together; or playing "house" (for some reason I have this image of my youngest sister Jessica panting while playing her traditional role of "pet dog." I don't know if this was traditional for her or if she just played it once and my memory remembers differently); or making calendars for my parents (a tradition that started upwards of twelve years ago and is still going--watch out, Energizer bunny); or going hiking in Colorado, or a million other things we did growing up.

The best part is that all of the growing up wasn't the best part. Each year of my life, I continue to grow closer and closer to my sisters, despite the increasing physical distance between our houses. They have become my best friends.

Today was a reminder of just how much I love my sisters and how grateful I am to have them in my life. Last year, at about this time, Melissa, my 25 year old sister, became a Christian. Despite growing up in a Christian home, she struggled to accept the idea of Christianity for years and years. Through many prayers from myself, my family, and others, and most of all through God's continual pursuit of her heart, Melissa accepted Jesus as her personal Savior on August 25, 2009.

What joy! I have been brought to tears time and again since I first read her letter to us, where her humility and awe and desire to follow Christ were so evident that I could do nothing but praise our mighty, mighty God for his good work. I still haven't quite found the words to express this experience, but on some level, I am reminded of the story of the prodigal son. I can almost taste the joy of the father as his son returns home.

I cannot even begin to tell you how much I admire and respect my sister. Her faith is astounding. I love to hear her talk about Jesus so intimately, and to know that now we all share this common ground together.

I wept again today, tears of joy, as Melissa was baptized into her new faith. With family and friends as witnesses, she publicly proclaimed her love for the Lord and her new found purpose in glorifying Him. It was wonderful to celebrate, knowing that the angels in heaven are joining with us.