When I looked up the word real, some of the synonyms were “actual, factual and genuine.”
When I think of my brother Patrick Bunts who has been missing now for about six or seven years now, I feel genuinely sad. The last time I remember speaking to him was at Christmas time, when he called my mother’s room at the assisted living facility at Brighton Gardens. I didn’t think his phone call was motivated by real good intentions.
In the intervening years, I’ve done searches for him and found information that indicates he is alive. But my attempts to contact him have returned void.
Patrick was in possession of our family picture albums which I would love have to have back. I believe he also may have a Christmas apron that belonged to my mother, which I would love to hold in my hands once again.
Sometimes when I think about those missing picture albums, I ask myself do I miss them more than I do my brother? While I do long to see them once again, there is never a day that goes by in which I don’t think about Patrick and wonder where he’s at. There’s not a day that I don’t pray for his salvation. There’s not a day in which I don’t pray that the Lord will bring someone in his life that will speak the truth of the Gospel message to him.
When I think of Patrick, I feel real sad. Not only do I have a brother that’s missing, but I have a brother who is lost.
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