Good morning,
 
The goal of every writer is to share a little of themselves with their readers, and I can’t think of a better way to do so than to continue to relate some of the ongoing saga that was my childhood. It has always been my feeling that I would love for my children, whenever they come along, to have as exciting and eventful an adolescence as I have had. I woke up today with lyrics of a song stuck in my head. Some of you may be familiar with it: “Closer than a brother…Yahshua is to me”. And I really started to ponder the deep sentiment behind such a claim. I grew up with my younger brother, Antoine Alexander Mackey (I know - what a cool name!), and when I say I grew up with - I mean we literally shared the same room until we were teenagers. I always thought myself to have been so lucky to have had a brother who was only 2 years younger than I was; all my other friends’ younger brothers were 4 and 5 years younger and because of that, they did not share the same camaraderie as he and I did. This may embarrass him, but he was a real softy when he was very young, and often he would climb into my bed at night because he was afraid to sleep alone. Naturally I was always extremely protective of him. Wherever I went, there he was and we grew up not only as brothers, which sometimes doesn’t mean much (check out Jacob and Esau), but also as the absolute best of friends. There wasn’t anything I would not do for my brother, even to the point of putting myself in harm’s way to protect him, which brings me to the next story in the ever exhilarating saga of young Wellington - or “Linky” as I was embarrassingly known back then.
 
This is: “The day my baby brother ran over me with a shopping cart”.
 
It was a beautiful day in June. I remember because we were on Summer break from school, and I had gotten the coveted job of being a “packing boy” at a large supermarket in the suburbs a few miles from where we lived.  For those who may not know what a packing boy does, he simply packs groceries neatly into bags and takes them out to the customer’s car. The customer would use their discretion and give the boy a tip, usually a dollar, but sometimes even more. That’s how we made our money, there was no salary involved, the supermarket indulged us because we made the customer’s experience more convenient. It was a great way to make money for all the things we wanted to buy over the Summer. In the islands there is “no free lunch”, a person is taught, at a very early age, the noble lesson that they must work for what they wanted in life.  So I got my younger brother a job of course, as soon as I was “in” good with the manager, and that day was his very first day on the job. We were busting.
 
Everything went smoothly for most of the day, we made maybe ten dollars each by noon. This was the time it really slowed down so I took my break. My brother loved money when he was younger so he decided to work through lunch. I was sitting outside minding my own business when he came running out, eyes glazed, barely able to make out the words - “I got a walk-pack”. I leapt from my seat. A “walk-pack” was a request for the packing boy to escort the customer to their house and usually was worth at least a ten dollar tip. It was like packing ten customers at once and was very rare, especially on somebody’s first day. So he packed up the shopping cart and we left with a very nice European lady who lived only a few blocks away, what a great day this was turning out to be! We got to her house without incident, which sat atop a very steep hill, and we unloaded the shopping cart (we call it a trolley in the Bahamas), and she very calmly handed us $25. Oh for JOY! We grinned at each other as she walked away.
 
Then it happened! In the euphoria of the moment I suggested that we should celebrate such a great walk pack by going back down the hill riding the shopping cart. “Riding the trolley?”, my brother expressed concerns (he was always more sensible than I was), but I reassured him that physics was on our side and we’d make it to the bottom safely and triumphantly. What could go wrong? His trust in me far outweighed his fear of danger so he stepped onto one side of the cart reluctantly, and I got on the other, “You sure bout this, you’ve done this before?” he asked glaring at the thick underbrush on the side of the road. “A gazillion times” I lied…”just hold on and don’t worry, let your older brother show you how its done!” And we took off like a bullet down the steepest hill in Nassau. It was the greatest idea I ever had for the first few seconds, the wind gale rushed past our faces and we laughed at each other in sheer ecstasy. Suddenly though, as is the case in most of my childhood stories - “things fell apart” and the shopping cart started to change direction, veering ominously to the right. I had not taken into account that I was a heavier than he was. Physics prevailed and we were headed for disaster, sharp rocks and thorns awaited our arrival. I made a quick decision that defined the love I have for my brother, without even a thought I leapt from the speeding shopping cart in hopes that at least he would be spared from injury.
 
As soon as I hit the pavement my momentum swept me over and I commenced the tumble of a lifetime. To add insult to injury I could feel the wheels of the shopping cart skidding over my body again and again because I had forgotten to let go. I saw road then sky, road then sky, as my frame was twisted violently under the unmerciful wheels. Finally, mercifully, we came to a stop, and I looked up and saw my little brother staring down at me from his safe spot on the shopping cart. He was unscathed. His uniform was still in prestine condition. Mine looked like I had jumped on an exploding grenade. I limped to my feet and examined the holes in my pants and the bruises on both my knees. I looked down curiously at my feet and saw only socks; my shoes were still at the top of the hill. My little brother burst into laughter as I limped back up that hill and retrieved my shoes that had flown off during the ordeal.
 
We still laugh about that story today, and I always remembered the instant sacrifice I made without even considering what would happen to me. That was what Yahshua felt when he gave himself up for us. He saw that mankind was headed for utter disaster and he threw himself from the “shopping cart” to save us from the sneer of the enemy. He took our sins on himself, and drank the cup of Yahweh’s wrath so that we could have a right to the Tree of Life again. So that’s what that song means when it says Yahshua is closer than a brother. I could never imagine being any closer to another guy as I am to my younger brother, but Yahshua is even closer to me than that. So today, think of all the people who are so close to you and with whom you’ve shared so much, and know that Yahshua is even closer to you and I than they are. What a friend we truly have in the Lamb of Yahweh. 
 
Proverbs 18:24 (New King James Version)
 
A man who has friends must himself be friendly, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.
 
I know this is a pretty long entry, but indulge me. Read it when you get a chance and then tell your siblings how much they mean to you.
 
Have a great Sabbath everybody!
 
Today is the 7th day of the month Adar II. The Sabbath Candle Lighting Time is 6:44 pm EST. The sun sets at 7:02pm EST.
 
Marc Wellington
 
“The highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out his nose. It was nice growing up with someone like you - someone to lean on, someone to count on…someone to tell on!! - Author Unknown
 
p.s. A hearty “Living Well”-come to the newest members of our tiny circle: Tiffany Jenkins. Again I have to say that the response continues to be overwhelming, I’m honored to be able to take you away from the cares of the material world if only for a short time during the mornings. If you would like to add a friend to the mailing list please send an email and your request will be granted. If you would like to be removed from the mailing list I will need a written order from Governor Spitzer…oops.(okay low blow Well)