The following uncredited story was shared in the Ash Wednesday service I attended last night:

There was a couple who already had one little boy and had another on the way.  The boy would often ask where little brothers came from.  “Your little brother is a gift from God.”  The answer seemed to do well by the boy.

Weeks and months and trimesters passed until the second son was born.  A few days later, the second son was brought home by his parents and the oldest son slowly got used to having another brother around.  Time passed, and eventually the older son asked for permission to talk to his little brother . . . alone.  The request seemed strange to the boys parents, but he didn’t drop the request.  The parents called their family doctor and asked if it would be okay for the brother to speak to his brother alone, with no one else in the room.  While he, too, thought the request strange, he didn’t see any real problem with it.  “Just turn the baby monitor on and sneak it in the crib as a safety precaution.”  They did, and so the older brother finally got a chance to speak to his brother.

He went in alone, walked gingerly up to his little brother in the crib.  He said hello.  And then he asked his little brother this: “Little brother, mom and dad said that you were a gift from God.  So I was wondering- could you tell me what God was like?  How did it feel to be with him? Because it’s been a long time since I saw him and I just can’t remember.”

“Lent is about remembering,” the speaker  said.  And while there were many things said and done in the service, it’s the story that I’ll remember.  I’m not sure about you, but as I read through the Gospel of Luke this Lenten season, I look forward to remembering the stories of Jesus and working to shape my life around them, rooting my life in them.