I thought I should preface this with something, but then I decided that was a terrible idea. After previewing this post, I again felt certain that it needed a preface, and so here I am, prefacing my letter with a discussion on the “to preface or not to preface debate.” This is probably worse than either my original preface or no preface at all, but when faced with a decision of a rock and hard place, I tend to commit suicide in the middle.
Image courtesy http://shakinglikeamountain.com/
My dear friend,
I wish you could know what I know. I wish you could see what I see and hear what I hear. I wish you knew that God loves you in a way no one else is capable of, with a depth no one can measure, with a breadth farther than even heavenly eyes can see. Love that could never be captured by the imagination, even the imagination of Tchaikovsky or Faulkner or Einstein or a combination of all three, or the exponential of that combination. Love that surpasses a romance but can only be described in terms of Bride and Groom because there are no words and no parallel for Divine love. The Love of One who knows your inner parts, who hasn’t just walked into your heart or delved past the outer gardens–this is the One who planted the flowers there, built the castle, chose every color and wove in every detail. This is He who counts the very hairs on your head, and not one falls without His permission. He is Love and His love transcends everything. All our mistakes and failings and unworthiness. I want that Love for you.
I want you to feel His presence all around you. I wish you could know the way it feels when He snuggles up by your soul, or the comfort of His hands holding your heart so tenderly, so tenderly. You say you like hot coca in the winter and warm apple crisp in the fall? This is so far superior to hot coca that I almost crossed out that line.
I wish your arms and the back of your neck could know the chills of Divine intervention, that moment when a mere mortal recognizes the glory of All-Powerful God working for her an eternal glory. You would see the wisdom in His eyes and you would know when He says “Everything is going to be alright,” His words are far from empty.
I wish you could know the security God brings to a life: meaning behind every tribulation, peace for the heart in every situation. My friend meet my God, Creator of the Stars. For some incomprehensible reason, He loves us so much that He counts every one of our tears.
I won’t tell you it’s easy, or that it will make all your problems go away, or that you’ll become rich and less insecure and All Better. I would never lie to you like that.
But even though it’s not all better, it is infinitely better. And even though less insecure always feels eons away, there is some comfort in acknowledging that in the eyes of King of All That Ever Was or Will Be your hidden person of the heart is precious. Your bank account won’t grow with renewed vigor, but giving up all control to His grace and blessings does have a way of five-loaves-and-two-fishing on you.
He is strength for the weak, hope for the hopeless, replenishment for every sorrowful soul.
Oh my friend, you are in a troubled day. And in between praying for you earnestly through the intercessions of all the saints, I ask God what He was thinking, placing you in a room with such a shy dunderhead of a Christian. I think He is trying to offer me the chance to bring a soul to Him, but my mouth might as well be boarded up for all the words tumbling out of me.
Oh my friend, I tell you all the time that you are loved. And it is as you assume, that I am saying you are loved by me. But there is One so much greater than I, One whose sandal strap I am not worthy to see, let alone touch or, God forbid, unfasten.
I want you to know how much He loves you.
With all sincerity,
Your sister in so many ways (but wanting to be your sister in Christ.)