Many a time someone or something has been there for me. My earliest memory: my brother David and I were in my room, laying on the bed singing a Sunday School song, “I am Jesus’ Little Lamb.” As we were singing we both saw Jesus standing in front of my closet doors at the foot of the bed.
Not being frightened we kept singing. Soon my oldest brother John opened the door and the vision was gone. We went out to tell our parents the news, but were shut down, with them saying it must have been a reflection of an 8×10 print of Jesus in the garden that hung on the wall above my bed. David and I never spoke of it again, until 25 years later.
David and I never were all that close growing up, in fact he was my least favorite of four brothers. On my brother John’s 40th birthday, all six siblings were celebrating at a local bar. All but David had shown up on time. I was having such a good time, he showed up and put a damper on my evening.
I finally had to take him outside and ask why we were this way. We chatted for a few minutes, and I finally broke the silence of all those years. “Dave,” I said, “Do you remember what we saw when we were 5 and 6?”
He said, “Yes,” and started crying. And so did I.
I know now why. God knew we wouldn’t be close, and that this would bring us back together. In my now 50 years, I am no longer afraid of what people might think of my story, I am so happy to share it.