Saturday is the day my brother turns 30. He is officially no longer young. I remember when we laughed at the lines of the Simon and Garfunkel song with the line, “I was 21 years when I wrote this song, I’m 22 now but I won’t be for long”. And when we laughed at the line in Pump up the Volume, “Anyone over the age of 20 really has no idea”. Oh the irony. He’s going to be 30. And as a tribute to the mixture of genius and geek that make up Mark Arnold, here is a small list of things about him that not many people know. Some of the reasons I love him so much. The last fight we had was when I threw a chair at him and he threw an encyclopedia at me. This goes towards making up for that.
My brother Mark:
He owns lots of red jumpers.
He has secret sides that few people get to see. I love it when others are let in to that side of him and see how amazing he is.
He can be very annoying, wonderfully stupid, deeply profound and caring all in one day.
He loves Jesus. Lots.
For someone who owns practically every theological book there is (and has read them) he is remarkably practical and real about faith, the struggles and the reality of God.
He seems to just get on with life, a fact I am constantly amazed and bemused by.
He’s really really grumpy in the morning and a simple conversation can send him into fits of rage. I find that very very funny.
He always has to argue, even if he agrees with me, he always has to argue.
He’s really, surprisingly, secretly stubborn.
He laughs at me.
He can’t be put into a box, even though he sometimes wears evangelical man clothes. .
He says ‘probably’ and ‘I think so’ FAR too much. Even about things that should be definite. Eg. ‘Are we going left at the next junction?’- ‘probably’
I love spending time with him.
He’s not cool, at all.
He reads me cool quotes from books.
He can be really really silly. I love that about him.
He can still play ‘lets pretend we’re in Lord of the Rings’ up mountains when he’s 29. I hope he will in his thirties.
He really really loves the Bible and making sure everyone can understand what’s going on in it.
He never humours my self pity but helps me laugh at myself.
He laughs at me. A lot.
He’s my friend. One of my best friends.
I think he likes me too.
When do you think I should tell him that he’s half way to 60 now?