"Some Are Born..."

Three-year-old Jacob stomps into the bathroom like a toothbrush wielding sumo.

His sing-song opera…“I am the youngest. You are the oldest.

But I am the STRONGEST! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

The older brother, no Esau, but a Joseph, pats him on his flaxen head,

And calmly douses his outstretched weapon with toothpaste.

These days, I’m attempting to make the psychological shift from nurturer of children to parent of nearly grown men. I wouldn’t for a million dollars exchange today for yesterday – but I can’t help but reminisce. I wrote the poem above when my sons were toddlers and, obviously, I’m more a prose girl. But sometimes I get the urge to wax poetic, and this silly poem is one of my favorites. It’s a snap shot of a moment in time, but it speaks volumes about the personalities of my two sons and their brother relationship.

Watching my sons brings other brother pairs to mind – my father and his younger brother, Wilbur and Orville Wright, and of course, Jacob and Esau. Each of my sons has respected the other’s strengths, and put up with each other’s annoying qualities, in a mostly good-natured manner over the years– this has been a gift. The interaction of my sons has also led me to conclude that the Biblical story of Jacob and Esau is as much, and possibly more, about the older brother as it is about the younger.

I ruminate about being an eldest, not through experience, but through observation. I am neither the youngest nor the oldest – I’m not even the middle. I am third of four siblings. I am the watcher, the chronicler of the family I was born into.

I am also the mother of an eldest, and the close friend, sister, daughter, and wife of eldest children, and I know this: it is not easy to be an eldest. Your person, the idea of you, your very existence, is imbued and burdened with the hopes, dreams, and expectations of those around you from the day you are born. It would be impossible not to disappoint at some juncture, but you are never free of it – that sense of being responsible, the natural burdens of authority and leadership. There are perks, to be sure, but they come with strings. You will never be free (like a third) or pampered like a youngest or an only child (circumstances of birth that come with their own challenges). Being the eldest sibling is the original, “What have you done for us lately?” job.

I completely understand Esau wanting to be free of the responsibilities of the eldest, and that understanding has made me come to admire the eldests in my life that much more. These eldests that I love could have walked away, sold their birthrights. As far as I can tell, it doesn’t enter their minds.

As I think about it, I remember that each of them has had their older sibling prodigal moments (“Dad, why do you let them get way with that? When I think about the thrashing I would have received had I…”) but these indignant moments tend to be brief. I have watched them take the lead in helping aging parents, keep the family connected by both encouraging and speaking the truth in love, always ready to step in when there is a need or challenge that the rest of us feel inadequate to face, advise and project confidence that reassures us about continuing on. Far from selling their birthright, they often refuse even the slightest offer of help – assistance that some might say only pride keeps them from accepting. It as if they were also born with some innate sense that this role is theirs to fulfill and no one else’s, so they err on the side of sole responsibility. By the grace of God, I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain. (I Cor. 15:10) This isn’t pride. It is obedience.

What of the rest of us? The younger, the middle…the third. Can we learn something about our own calling by watching them? Another of their responsibilities, that, teaching by example. God gives us the choice to be or not to be what He created us to be. We’re free to walk away. He doesn’t need us to help Him fulfill His purposes. But running away tends to end in a pigpen, or the belly of a whale, or grieving at a birthright cheaply sold. My eldests have taught me it is good, no matter how rough the path, to follow the one God has placed before us, refusing to be distracted by smoother seeming ways. We look to Him at each twist and turn and say, “Where next?” People are blessed by that action, both the person who acts, and those they travel with, as well.