Sometimes I long for what I don’t have right now. I long for the long walks with mom to anywhere talking about anything and everything. I long for the moments when I feel like a kid, and my dad wraps his arms around me and tells me everything’s going to be alright. I long for the times I’ve lost track of time with my siblings, doing what we all love best… playing music. I long for the moments I look into my youngest sister’s eyes, and she snuggles into that spot in my arms where she fits perfectly, and I try to explain to her little three-year-old brain how much I really love her.
Today I met with a girl whose mother just passed away, and listened as she revealed her brokenness, and clung to any bit of hope I could give her. Last week, Drew stayed up until 3am with a thirteen-year-old boy whose father left him when he was two, and his stepfather often abuses him.
My family will always be my family. They’ll always be waiting for me, and will always support me. The least I can do is be what they are to me, to someone else, who doesn’t have that… Even if that means I have to leave my family, to show that kind of love.
Sometimes we have to let some things go, in order to gain something better.
Father told me that if I left mother, brothers or sisters for his sake, I’d get a hundred times as much as I left, in return. Sometimes I wonder if they are found in the faces of people like this.
If they are, this longing is a small price to pay.
