10 years of "Mulletude"

10 years ago today I became a big brother. That in itself is a pretty amazing thing. I really couldn’t imagine my life without my little sister. Not because we’ve always been good friends, and because she’s never gotten on my nerves. That’s not even to say that I’ve never been a complete jerk to her, because I’ve definitely done that many times, and I’m sure many more times are in store.

There’s just something amazing about having someone that much younger than you looking up to you. We even have nicknames for each other. She’s a, “Mullet” and I’m a, “Snot-rocket” (I came up with the last one too, but she stole it from me). I remember the first time she said, “Shut-up!” Not because I thought it was funny, but because I felt so guilty. I knew she only knew it because I had said it around her.

I see her going through what I went through as a kid and remember how tough it was, and she hasn’t even hit the toughest times yet. The sad part is she’s way cooler than I ever was. Now she’s just starting to say she likes other boys, and it’s ticking me off. I’m dead serious if some kid breaks her little heart I’m going to hurt him.

I could go on forever about what it means to me to be a brother, and to have a little sister that I love so much and that loves me so much, but that’s not the point of this at all. See my little sister is somewhat unique because she was adopted. She’s also biracial (her dad was African-American and her mom was Caucasian). 10 years ago today she officially became my little sister.

I guess that’s made me think about adoption a lot. In itself it is a pretty amazing concept. First, that someone would be willing to give up their child; and second, because someone else is willing to pay a lot of money to get her. I would assume that this would blow the mind of some people in today’s society. But it’s normal for me. My best friend’s parents adopted a girl. My aunt and uncle have adopted three Vietnamese kids. My pastor and another woman from my church are about to adopt children from different countries, and I’m sure there are plenty of other’s that I am forgetting.

One could truthfully say that I’m surrounded by adoption. I think that’s why the notion of being adopted into the “family” of God is such a great illustration to me. Kate did nothing to get adopted. It was all the graciousness of my parents. They decided they that they could take on another kid (I know that sounds harsh, but I don’t mean it to) and so they went to all the work to get her. They spent thousands of dollars, countless hours in prayer, and tons of time filling out paper work to get her. I know if you ask them they would say it was well worth what they gave.

Now I really don’t think of Kate as being adopted. Sure I remember well the day that we did adopt her. I thought I was so cool because I got to hold to video camera. She’s part of the family now. It kills me when people tell my dad how much she looks like him, and I think that’s fitting. She is a part of our family. Someday she might want to find out who her real parents are, and my parents will be willing to help her. They’ve told her repeatedly, and I think she has a grasp of the fact that she adopted. She knows she’s special, and she definitely rubs it in my face.

God was willing to give a great sacrifice for us not because of anything that we did. He loved us when we were still dead in sin, and continues to love us. I guess this is getting pretty sappy; so I’ll stop soon. I love my little sister and this for her, but it also just amazes me to think of God’s continuing love for us. We’re part of the family, and I bet he doesn’t even think about us being something other than that too often.

Chris Carson (proud brother)