To The Black Sheep of the Family: Come Home

Hi. It’s me. Your older sister.

I know that I might be the last person you want to talk to now. I know too that there were countless of times that I’m beyond mean to you. And there’s no reason for you at all to read this or to even have a conversation with me.

But, I beg you. Please, let’s talk.

The kind of conversation that we never had a chance to enjoy.

The kind of conversation where I can speak life to you and not judge you.

The kind of conversation where I’m the one asking for forgiveness and not you.

The kind of conversation that starts with love and not shouting or screaming. The one that ends with high hopes and not dead dreams.

I want you to know that you are not the black sheep of the family. No one is. You are important. You are deeply loved by us. I’m sorry that we made you feel the opposite for so many years. It’s my hope that it’s not too late for you to stop thinking that you’re not part of our family. Because you are. You truly are. What will we do without you?

I asked myself tonight: If there’s one bad memory I’d like to change in the past, what is it?

And you know where my mind and heart led me? It was that stormy night in our house wherein I was yelling at you. I was so full of anger. I was raging of madness. Do you still remember the reason why I was so mad that time? It was because of your report card. You got this really poor list of grades and for my standard as an honor student, it was completely unacceptable! I can’t accept that I have a brother who’s failing in school.

And what? You were just in second grade that time and I was throwing all those unfair expectations to your life at such a young age. I was screaming and screaming and shouting, “I don’t want to have a brother who fails in school. You better do good. Fix yourself!” Then, I saw your eyes. I will never forget those eyes. You were crying. You were so confused. My poor little brother. Your eyes were shouting, “Ate, please help me.” But I completely ignored it because I was so full of myself. Forgive me. I could’ve acted like your sister and not your enemy. I’m sorry that I did not hug you instead. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Ever since that night, you never did good in school anymore. You just stopped trying. You started doing more and more unbelievable stuff. You started fighting with your classmates. You always go back home with a bruise on your face. You never gave us your report cards anymore and the only time we could be able to see it is when your teacher would call our Mom and tell her, “Your son is badly failing. He’s never going to move up. He failed.”

You know what’s the worst thing? The distance between us.

It’s not just you. I’m not going to blame you for this painful distance between us. Yes, you created it. But we never tried to reach out. We set you aside because we know that you’re just going to do the same horrible thing over and over again. We got tired of receiving bad news about you from here and there. Just like you, we just stopped trying.

And then, this heartbreaking distance happened. We live under the same roof but you’re always in your room. Always. We have some family pictures that you weren’t included because you’re simply not there. When people ask if how many brothers do I have, they always get surprised that I have two. Because they don’t know anything about you. They do not know you exist.

Why did you hide yourself? Why did you choose to be all by your own? Why did you choose your friends over us? Sometimes, when I passed by your room, I always hear this loud music. I often wonder, were you putting up the volume high just so we will not hear you crying? I often stop at your door and just sit down there and pray that one day, you would open your door and I will hug you so tight. Then we will be back to the night when you were still in second grade and I will tell you, “I believe in you. You’re smart. You’re the smartest kid I know. Ate will help you. Just tell me what to do. I will help you. Tell me what to do. I love you.”

Tonight, I cried out to the Lord. To save you. To redeem you from whatever bad record you have. I cried out that God will make you feel the love that I wasn’t able to give you. I cried out that God will speak to you the way that would bring life and direction. I cried out that God will pour out healing upon healing to your hidden wounds that you’re trying hard to hide. My brother, you are loved. You are healed. You are not forgotten.

You have a mighty destiny in the Lord. Forget what this world would say. They don’t know what they are talking about. You are made for a purpose. Search for that. Seek the Lord for that. Walk in His light. You no longer need to hide in the darkness of your room. You’re not fighting alone. You don’t need to fight alone.

I loved you before. I love you now. I would still choose to love you.

When the world forsakes you and throws stones at you, I promise to stand with you and never judge you. We don’t have this distance anymore. You’re safe in me. You’re safe in the Lord. No matter how many mistakes. No matter how many failures. No matter how screwed up your past is. Know that those are all just part of the story. You are not all of those. You’re strong. You’re going to use those stones thrown at you and build houses in God’s kingdom.

You’re not a black sheep. You are just a lost sheep finding his way back to God’s embrace. Just like all of us.

And whenever you’re ready, come home.

Please come home.

Let’s celebrate brokenness turned into a love story. Altogether beautiful and wonderful.

Come home, little brother.