A Turmoil of Spirit

This post is in response to my sister's here: https://singingmiownsong.blogspot.com/2019/04/turmoil-of-soul.html, though I believe her blog is currently private, so to sum it up for anyone who isn't able to read it: V is in a situation that has drawn her away from our family and is currently looking at a decision that may cut ties even more completely. I don't begrudge her this, if this is truly what God is calling her to, but...

(Also, I've drawn a winner for the Honor: a Quest In giveaway, and I have an announcement regarding influencer copies. I'll try to get that up tomorrow.)

"Lord!" I cry, as my eyes scan the last paragraph in my sister's post again and again, wondering at its meaning, trying to believe that it doesn't mean what I fear it does. "Lord..."

My heart pours before Him - I have never been one to pray with formed words, as my mind races forward through a thousand feelings faster than I can speak them. God knows my heart. He knows my desires and my fears better than I do myself. And more than that, He knows my future - the intangible tomorrow that hovers too close and too far away always at the same time.

"Lord, I miss my sister."

It's been months since I saw her - not since Christmas, and then for so briefly! And now, I finally understand the ache that has been cut through my heart this last year. These last years.

"Lord, a name is a name, and she always was destined to take another through marriage, should that day come," I say. "I'm no one to speak, having abandoned Roden myself for Ardnek, at least for my public persona. But you made me her sister. You didn't place a child idle in a family. You knew what You were doing when You gave her to us. To me."

V. and I were never without our quarrels, growing up, but the fact and truth remains - we're sisters.

"Lord, you made her INFJ and me ENFP - two old souls who sing two songs in harmony. She's the order to my mess, the vision to my dreams, the summer to my winter. The..."

I choke on tears now, fingering now my ring - my Ankulen. It's taken many forms over the years - a necklace before I moved it to my finger. Hers has always been the same - a shining crown, though she tried to reject it for so many years.

"Lord, I know You called her for a purpose, but You called me, too. Why did You take her from us? I am grateful to this other family, that they have given her the protection and opportunity that I never could - but she is a chameleon. She changes to match whomever she wishes to please, and right now it is them. Lord, I speak to her, and I barely know her!"

I take a deep, shuddering breath, blinking back the tears that squeeze from my eyes.

"If her decision is of You, then so be it, but I fear the hand that they have had in it AND I AM NOT AT PEACE."

I fall silent now, save for my tears - they are my prayer now. I envy, sometimes, the clear voice that she hears from Him, but my faith is not the same. It is the convictions set upon my heart as I read and write and pray.

And my conviction now is strong and clear: She is my sister, and I was meant to carve a path and protect her. 

"Lord, have I failed? Is it my own vanity? Doesn't she know how proud I ever was of her? That all I ever wanted was for her to be proud of me?"

Where am I to go, what's my next step? These have been my questions, ever since she left me. Where once I had conviction, now I falter, fall to my knees, and weep.

I stare at the outline I have on my wall - the story I am writing now. A story of two brothers whose paths broke away from each other and have now to join again. Two brothers who had nothing but differences, growing up, and must now learn how they fit together so they can guide their kingdom into a better age.

How can I write such a story when my heart is breaking apart like this?

How can I not?

"Lord, she will perish on her own. The world is too much for her. She desires too much to conform!"

And with one last shaky breath I whisper:

"Lord, I miss my sister."