Dear Zachy-Poo

Dear Zachy-Poo,

You know, I don't even remember the first time I called you that... though I'm sure it was in attempt to mess with you. Today you're 22, and I'm pretty sure I will always call you Zachy-Poo no matter how old you are.

You don't hear me say it enough, but you are the most incredible man I know. You're strong, and brave, and talented, and skilled with everything you do. You have faith that is so genuine, that if it doesn't move mountains, it's because it moves the very earth that carries the mountains. You have vision that cannot even be contained in an earthly future, and intent that stops at nothing. You're a bearer of such an incredible flame and purpose for the Lord, and I think everyone who's ever met you can see you're somethin' else. Something big. Someone who has changed the world, who has so much yet to do, and someone who will never be repeatable.

Zach, you're so gifted. God has given you such an anointing (spin around, and bow...) that is so evident in you. I think your calling is just so huge, and alive, and I don't think I'd have the certainty of what God has called me to do myself, had I not seen it in you.

Your songs are the ones that grab at everyone's heartstrings. The ones that will make every lady fall in love, and every guy think, "well crap." cause he can't compare to you.

Your crazy eyes are the ones that will never let any drunk, smelly dude touch one of your sisters on South Street in Philly.

Your compassion and understanding for the people around you, is the kind that let's everyone know they're understood, and welcome, and somehow just safe.

Your dedication and devotion to the things that matter to you is the kind that will never let you leave empty-handed, or unsuccessful.

Your hands are the ones that make music ( "... and make music with our hands!"), and that reach to God, and touch heaven, and bring a little bit back down to the rest of us.

Your feet are the ones that leave footsteps that many have, do and will follow, because they lead to a place of rest and peace and restoration, even when you're not sure you feel at rest yourself.

Your arms are those that carry little Meli and Lena and beat up your big little brother till he's yelping and punching you in the back, because he wants just to be just like you and near you all the time.

Your passion is the kind that could shoulder boulders on your back, and catch stars with your hands, and spread rain in a desert.

Your voice is the one that people quiet themselves to hear when you stand behind them, because the worshipper in you releases a worshipper in them too.

Your laughter is the kind that breaks windows and makes birds fly away (or drop dead... maybe that's what's going on lately...) because it's higher than mine. I'm just being honest.

Zach, you're the guy I'll always compare other guys to. It's a shame, really. Because they'll never meet up to the standard you've created.

I will never think a girl is good enough for you. So you can give up now.

If you really want to marry someone someday, I'll find her. Because I'd rather go through the dirty work, than give anyone the chance to break your heart. I've heard it said, "break this heart, I'll break your face." That's why I wear high heels so often. I'm just being prepared.

When I look back at growing up with you, I remember silly arguments, and hilarious times that we'd get really mad at each other. And then we'd be fine. It's almost like being mad at myself. I don't like it. But it's funny, too. So i'll probably keep getting mad at you from time to time. Just for kicks if nothing else.

When I consider how ironic it is that we ended up going to the same college, I marvel, because it's like this... how could I possibly get any more blessed? I already grew up with you. I've known you my whole life. You'll unfortunately never be able to say the same of me, since you had two lonely years without me, but it's the truth. I can't believe I'm so blessed as to have you, my brother, my best friend, only minutes away from me at college.

The times you wanted to beat people up because they made me cry are precious to me. The times you screamed and jumped, and slammed me into the wall in your sleepy delirium because I jumped out at you and scared you in the middle of the night, are by far the greatest memories. The times we wrote songs together, and the times we at least attempted and then gave up because it just wasn't working out, are amazing. The now countless road trips to and from NJ to IL and vice versa are the sweetest times.

I can't wait to see where God takes us next.

I hope you have the best birthday in the world. I wish I could give you the world. You'd probably do amazing things with it.

Zach, I don't know who I'd be without you. You are my best friend, and God gave me something huge when he made me your sister. Even though Dad says it's stupid, I'd catch a grenade for ya.

I love you. Happy Birthday Zachy-Poo!