As I drove home this afternoon, my mind began to wander off into several rambles which usually lead to specific conclusions on particular topics. Tonight and ever so surprisingly, I began to process through something quite foundational in my culture: failure. In my experience, failure is an extremely crippling element- it isn't denied as something that will never happened, but it seems as if it shouldn't happen. Deep in my own thought and far into the process of a previous conversation, I began to think about the crippling weight of failure. Growing up, failure meant weakness, showed vulnerability, and if there was any hint of success then there was always room for improvement. Failure kept me from speaking, moving forward, apologizing, interacting, and pursuing. I would much rather have gone through more punishment than be given a deep understanding of the nature of my failure.

When I first began to build a relationship with Jesus, I could not understand His radical approach to failure. In fact, what scared me most about Him was not the punishment I presumed I would receive upon the confession of my sin, but the disappointment I would give Him through my failure. I thought I would be left behind and stuck in a limbo of shame. But, none of that was true.

In Mexican culture, you are shown a deep understanding of failure so that you can see the cost left to you and the family. Jesus, however, allows failure in order to demonstrate our need for Him. As we draw closer, our relationship with Him grows because it is His grace that covers us, not the construction of our legality or morals. Failure outside of Jesus bears the ongoing production of rules that's purpose is to reflect weakness. Failure inside of of Jesus bears the ongoing production of grace that's purpose is to reflect our need of a Savior.

Familia y Amigos, failure isn't weak or unacceptable. Failure is an affirmation of our need for Jesus Christ. That's completely different than anything we can experience because with need comes comfort not shame.

"Praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort." (2 Corinthians 1:3)

Con Amor,

Oso

The year was 1989 and Anthrax was on tour in the U.K. in promotion of their Among the Living album, which is an amazing album that displays the perfect example of 80's thrash metal. My parents had coffee nights with friends, two of my brothers worked, and my eldest brother, Meme, and I were left at home which meant our own personal concert. Epic. I had really short hair and couldn't head-bang properly so I would slam my head on my mum's couches while Meme whaled on the imaginary drum set. He was always the drummer from Anthrax, Charlie Benante, and I was the rhythm guitarist, Scott Ian. Together we ruled the house without conviction, loyal anarchy, and a passion that made our living room come alive.

But as soon as we saw the lights to our parents' van, all of those extravaganzas ended. Abruptly too.

I have no idea how my mum did it; raising 4 boys. I remember getting in a fight with Meme in the hallway of my room and my head going through the wall. Then there was New Year's eve where we boxed and I made his nose bleed and my mum got after me! I didn't see the logic. He's the eldest, why did the baby brother get the slammer?

I never thought Meme would need me. I thought it would be one of those stories where the big brother always took care of the little brother. I never thought he would need me because he is 15 years older than me so I never felt like I could truly appreciate what it was like to be in his shoes, even if I grew up.

And then today happened.

About a week ago, Tia Maria passed away. It was tragic and it seemed all of the sudden. Meme was able to head out to Mexico to see our family to tend to any needs for my parents and be of support to our cousins. Today he was showing me pictures of bueli's (grandmother) house and telling me the wonderful messages from our cousins. I teared up because I miss them dearly.

He got to the part where everyone was at the funeral home and saw my Tio Rolando, husband to my late Tia Maria. Meme said Tio wasn't all there. I mean, his wife had just passed away, I can't imagine what he was thinking in a time such as that day. Now, I need to pause and paint a portrait of Tio Rolando: he's a bad-ass and that's an understatement. Everyone in the barrio knows this man as Don Rolando; father to 9, extremely hard-worker, business owner, land/ranch owner, bull wrestler (yes, I said it), his idea of fruit juice is wine, drinks his coffee black with mucho sugar, and loves a good cigar. When he was young, he fell into a well of burning oil and came out without a single burn. That's Tio Rolando (big smile from me right here).

When we would stay in Mexico with our cousins, he would wake us up at 5:00 a.m. to have breakfast (freshly made, real chicharrones. Oh my lord, I'm salivating), feed all the animals on the ranch, chase the piglets, carry the bags of oats for the pigs, kill and field dress an animal on the spot with a small knife or cleaver, build a fire, more manly stuff, and then munch out. We quickly learned that men were made for work.

Back to the story. As Meme came across Tio Rolando at the funeral, he mentioned that Tio Rolando didn't look at him; didn't bother to say anything the whole time. Tio Rolando is a rock to us. Meme began to shed tears, heavy tears. It was difficult for him; seeing our Tio in a state of distance, but also loss. This wasn't how it was suppose to be.

At that moment, I could of shared whatever bible verse came to mind or a story of affliction that led to redemption in order for my brother to see the light on the other side of what he experienced, but that wasn't the point. It wasn't what he needed. My brother needed his brother to hug and cry with him.

I was needed. My brother needed comfort and embrace. That, alone, as I sit now, is sharing the love of Jesus. Five years ago, I didn't need a bible verse. Five years ago, I needed Jesus for comfort by embracing me. That's the beautiful part of this: As Jesus has loved me, and I mean genuine love not a high-five from time to time, I got to love my brother well today. As Jesus embraced me and told me "It's okay, I'm here," I got to hold my brother with tears and say the same thing.

"Come to me all who are burdened and heavy laden and I will give you rest." - Jesus

- Oso