"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior's hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them!" Psalm127:3-5
This one's for you, Grant. I love you.
When I was seven years old, my mom told me that our family was going to grow. And because I had a big sister and I was a girl myself, naturally, I thought that the new addition was also going to be a girl. But as most of you know, that addition was a little boy. He came home on my birthday and I wasn't so sure about a boy being in the house. But needless to say, he grew on me like mold, becoming my best friend and completely changed my outlook on life.
Because I grew up with a Grant hanging on my coattails, I began to act more and more like a boy myself. I mean, when I first meet people I joking tell them that even though I am physically a 19 year old girl, I am mentally a middle school boy: my outdoor voice is always on and I have no filter, I want to duke it out when there's a disagreement and move on, I have to win everything, and poop jokes will never not be funny.
The outdoor voice thing became an issue throughout my high school years so I spent the summer months at Whitehall Camp and Conference Center where I could channel that energy without causing an issue. I began working as hospitality staff when I was 15. Whitehall has played a huge role in developing who I am as a person. I have played the best games, built the best relationships, and learned about the best man to ever walk the earth. This past week was an intense week of growth where Christ revealed to me crucial truths about myself.
My role for the Kingdom is this: Caretaker.
Caretakers can be disguised as sisters, mothers, aunts, mentors, grandmas and I have taken the form of all five in a matter of seven days. But what I didn't understand was that the Lord has given me a heart to be "caretaker" for young boys.
In a world that is hyper focused on girls and young women, I have allowed myself to focus on a group of people that tend to get overlooked. By the time boys are in middle school they
have already subconsciously decided what type of person they want to be, whether that's athletic, artistic, mysterious, or outdoorsy. They have opened their minds to learning about new things- anything is worth investigating because they are curious little creatures. Arguably, they are extremely vulnerable and innocent.
In the past seven days I have realized how much protecting twelve year old boys really need. And to my surprise, it's just as much as preteen girls. My heart is so full of joy at the idea that God has been preparing me for this platform of having little brothers by giving me a brother to love in my own home.
I was sister to Wyatt
in the way we picked fights with each other.
Aunt to Josiah
in the way I egged him on when I knew it would drive his counselors, Nick and Matt, crazy.
Mentor to the older boys
in the way I encouraged them to be men of God by pursuing Him daily.
Grandma to Isaac
in the way I sang oldies all week and acted like Olga (my 109 yr old Russian persona).
And mother to Kellan
in the way I held him while he cried over his salvation.
I have never been more sad for a week of camp to end than I was this year. I get to love on, encourage, and protect these boys from the harsh reality of the world for a week and I have never felt more blessed.
But I have had a lot of practice being a caretaker to Grant and I am fortunate that I will always him to teach me how to have little brothers.
With a full heart,
Ruby
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