Gifts with skin

“Hey!”

I looked up from swinging Heidi at Sunset Park to the dark-haired woman approaching me. “Yes?”

“Are you Kris Zyp’s sister?” I smiled and nodded.

Of course that’s about the billionth time I’ve been asked that in my lifetime. Twenty-five years ago it made me cry, twenty-years ago it made me feel insecure, and fifteen years ago it just made me roll my eyes. Now, it makes me feel proud. The good kind of proud.

Yes, I am Kris Zyp’s sister.

You see, my brother is a crazy Doogie Houser child prodigy. No really. My mom has the little baby book journal filled with all the cute things that we said when we were little. Mine are googoo gaga and Kris’s were computations of the distance between planets and probability equations and something or other about Halley’s comet.  He used to read Hoyle’s book of rules and the Guinness book of world records just for fun (just now I had to look up how to spell Guinness).  When I was a baby just learning to sit up he was playing with his chemistry kit (at 3 1/2 years old!) and made cyanide.  We had to call the High School chemistry lab to determine if baby Kari was going to die or not. Fortunately he only made enough to kill a lab rat.

At 9 he taught himself trigonometry (I spelled that right on the first try, by the way) and scored a perfect 800 on the math portion of SATs when he was 12. We spent my childhood traveling around to Johns Hopkins Award ceremonies and Science Bowl competitions. I clutched my dolly under my arm and smiled. Yup, I’m his sister.

Oh, but not just smart. But crazy athletic too.  This is the kid that traveled the country playing on All-star basketball teams. (I was the cheerleader) The guy who was all-conference in every sport playing quarterback, point-guard and short-stop.  The guy who held school records without trying. How can so much excellence be all tied up in one person?

Of course being cut, handsome, and sandy blond is a nice addition. Because if you’re going to dump all this excellence into one person you might as well make it a good-looking one, right?!  I mean seriously, come on.

And then, above all, he has the audacity to be humble beyond words.  That is really what marks his life.  He seeks God’s glory. Pores over God’s word. Serves selflessly. Gives sacrificially.  Loves his family.  I’m not saying he’s perfect, but I’m saying he’s one of of the most character guys I’ve ever met. Recently their small church was bereft of the bass player on their worship team and had no one to take his place.  My brother? “Sure I’ll learn to play bass.”  He started from scratch and learned how to play a musical instrument just to fill the need. Do you see what I mean?

Of course he went on to marry an extraordinary wife and has two extraordinary kids.

The guy is just so stinkin’ extraordinary.

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Can you see why I used to cry or feel insecure or roll my eyes just a tad? This is all I had to compare myself to growing up. This. Of course the problem wasn’t him it was comparing.  But how wonderful is it when we finally realize that we don’t have to impress God because Jesus impressed God for us. And how wonderful is it when we realize that God has more than enough love for all of us!  Someone else’s awesomeness doesn’t take away from our awesomeness in Christ.

And where competition ends love begins.

For so long I felt that being ordinary was a curse because all I ever saw was how extraordinary my brother was. But of course that’s like a toe lamenting because it doesn’t get to do the typing or the wear the earrings or speak the eloquent words.  Toes matter. And so do ordinary people.

And that includes me. (And you, all my beloved ordinary readers :))

But most of all, how blessed are we when extraordinary people come along our path? We should praise God for them, learn from them, watch their example (more on that coming Thursday). How dreary would the world be if we were all identical?

I love my brother so much it makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode. I admire him, learn from him, brag about him. He’s taught me about giving, living sacrificially, about humility and grace, about asking tough questions and challenging the status quo.  And he’s taught me all these things by example.

That is a gift. He is a gift. He is a gift to me.

And today he turns thirty-four. I wish he were close enough to hug, but this post is my best attempt at saying, across the miles, I love you.  I’m thankful for you. I’m sorry for wasted years way back that I spent comparing and not loving.  I can’t imagine a better brother. You’re the crazy coolest person ever. I’m so proud to be your sister.

The greatest gifts in our lives are always people. Today I pray that we stop, look around, and begin counting the gifts that have skin. We all have so many. I have so many, and my brother is one of the best.

Happy birthday, Kris. And here’s to all our gifts with skin. Let’s celebrate them today.

By grace, with joy,

Kris Zyp’s sister