He’s my brother

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I watched Clifford free fall from the hearth into Henry’s waiting arms. Cliff would chuckle; Henry would rub the baby’s head. Then Clifford was back on his feet, climbing up, ready to do it again (and again and again). I have to admit, I had to stop myself from stopping them. I think I silently gasped each time. Although it’s only about an 18 inch drop, it was a sight to behold: Cliff’s absolute faith that Henry would be there to catch him.

He's my brother

I finally said to Henry, “Wow, he really trusts you.”

“Of course he does,” said Henry. “I’m his brother.”

That is what Christ asks of us. Complete trust. He is, after all, our brother. We should look to him with the simple trust of a little child.

It took a while for me to come to grips with that particular familial relationship with Christ. It sounded a little groovy to me. You know, like people calling each other brother or sister. As in, “Peace, my brotha.” Farrrr out.

But once I finally got it: God father, Christ brother, Heaven home–his place in my day-to-day life forever changed. I finally realized I could put my trust in Him in all things. Big and little. Even when I’m in a free fall. He is, after all, my brother.

At that time the disciples approached Jesus and said, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, “Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children,  you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.” –Mat 18 1-5
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