Two Roads Diverged

My eldest brother and I endured most of the same trauma in our childhood. We learned to be survivalist, although that was defined differently for each of us. At first, it was stealing whatever he could to eat and obtain the lifestyle we once knew. Mine was to dress and play the part of the girl I once was. We both learned to pretend like our unraveled world didn't exist. We were objects at motion, continuing in motion. Not fully understanding where we were headed.

At some point along the way our paths diverged. He, continuing down the road walked before us. I, fighting with every once of my being, to forge a new one. Neither one was easy. Survivalist then, and survivalist still. Although my path was now guided by a light, that has continually lit the way.

Looking into my brothers tear filled eyes the other day, I could see all of the pain that his road has brought him. While, mine delivered me from it. I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all of the difference. My journey brought me freedom. It gave me rest for my weary soul. It allowed me to discover peace and joy. It provided my family a new heritage. We no longer have to be who we once were. Although, there are wonderful parts of our loved ones we will forever carry with us.

Despite the adversities he's faced. Despite the heartbreak he's felt. Despite the years he may have spent in the wilderness. We both arrived at the same place....the feet of Jesus. Our paths may have split decades ago, but they have now merged together. Our hearts and souls, are filled with scars from the journey. His wounds a little more fresh and deeper than mine. Yet, still, the healing process has begun. 

Two roads diverged, re-emerged...looking back on how we miraculously survived it all. Believing someday we will understand the purpose. And knowing God was with us both all along.