January 9, 2005

• Note from 7/18/07 God has been answering my points in this letter, one by one .

  Finished the Beth Moore Bible study a few weeks ago called Beloved Disciple. In her first video, Beth talked about how Jesus went up to a blind man and asked him “What do you want?” She asked us to write a letter asking Jesus what we wanted. And then to put it in an envelope and open it up at the end of the Bible study. Here is the letter I wrote, dated 9/28/04. It was written late at night after a tough day with teens. Teens and their attitudes, anger and hormones had worn me down. My middle son was caught making prank calls at a neighbors with her son. As it is today, I am not popular – I made my son do his homework, sigh.

  This is the letter I wrote, I just recently got the nerve to open it up. There is more peace in our house, the questions are the same, but perhaps one answer is from here at Xanga, the kindness shown to me here is helping me sort out the issues that seem never to go away.

   

  Dear Jesus,

  What do you want? Beth says to write you a letter detailing what I want to you. I guess the first thing I want to know is if that is the truth, that you desire to give each and everyone our wants. I could see you giving us our needs, but we as humans seem to be insatiable in our wants. Would that not spoil us as children?

  I want a loving family. The teenage years are shaking that veneer of love. My two sons are like boxers in a ring, hating each other, trying to provoke the other one in anger. I am constantly trying to sort things out. Every now and then they do something foolish and I have to deal with it with my friends and acquaintances. At times it just isn’t fun to be a mother. And Jim, at times, does not take the role of responsible father, so I am always coming across as the heavy, hated by all for doing what a loving parent has to do. Just once I would like peace to reign in our house for a season. A calm between the storms. I want them to recognize that I act out of love and bend over backwards to give them the loving home I never had.

  I want to know the real purpose behind the past that I had. How much did you allow and why? I really resent having so much pain and hurt. Why couldn’t I have been brought up in a loving Godly home? Did you hate me so very much? Why didn’t you answer my first real despairing prayer to you? How could you not stop him from hurting me? It is well and good that this wretched past is put to good use, and I see that people like Beth Moore used their painful pasts to help others but there is a little girl inside of me that wants to ask you, “Don’t you love me?” Because frankly, if you really loved me you would have stopped them from hurting me so badly.

  I want to see just where you were in my past. I truthfully cannot find you there. Of course, I shut you out from the age of eight on because you didn’t take care of me. But you are supposedly an all-powerful God. Didn’t you care that the walls were really being built up so high? It would have been easier to tear them down early on. It is hard to see that there seems to be a pattern of abuse and neglect by even one I am supposed to call abba Father. What kind of father abandons a child he loves? Who doesn’t stand up and protect her? What kind of God?

  I wish I could get over this anger at you but there is a sense of betrayal. I see so many hurts from the sins I committed that trace their origins to this betrayal. Oh , I can’t excuse my actions and choices by pinning them on my past, but when my innocence was destroyed it made me wonder if there was any good in me at all.

  I want to know why my parents did not love me. Was it something in me that is innately unlovable? So if they couldn’t love me, how can I even believe you could love me? Maybe you could muster up some pity and affection for a freak, but do I deserve real love from you or anyone?

  God, you have given me life. I exist because of you, but I do not live life to its fullest. Life is something I never embraced. I went through life trying not to be noticed, hiding, and quite frankly a good portion of my life I spent trying not to live, to kill myself. Even to this day I see life as existence, not something to be fully embraced and enjoyed. Is there meant to be joy for me in this life?

  I look at so many around me who seem to have genuine relationships with you. Who bask in the glow of your love, claim to freely go to you with problems. See you as so real and vital to their lives. I see myself as spiritually autistic. I do not fully reach out to you. I am afraid of you, yet long for your love. Your abandonment of me as a child (or at least my perception of your abandonment) makes me doubt my relationship with you. I don’t know if you will really be there if I reach out to you. I am afraid to test you to see if you will be there. I am paralyzed with fear.

  Inside me is a little child that never had a chance to live. A part of me wants you to come and nurture that child, grow her up, give her security and peace. But frankly, I fight to keep her safe. To reach out to you and have you not answer would kill that child. Would you answer if I reached out? I want to know for sure.

  Please know that I am being honest. I mean you no disrespect, but am honestly sharing my fears. A relationship has to be based on honesty. I do respect you and am so thankful that you saved me from my sins. I guess I want more though. Oh how I long to feel the realness of your presence, a sense that you would be there for me, on my side, fighting my battles.

  I also want to know what you want me to do with the rest of my life. I feel so much was squandered by my rebellion and the 40 years in the wilderness. Do you hate me for all that rebellion? Can it be put to use?

  Dear Jesus, I guess this all could be summed up in the word love. I want to learn to love you, and to feel that you love me. I need to have the damage repaired inside to make this even remotely feasible. And from a childish point of view, I want to know, do you love me? can you love me? I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t see anything worth loving and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t love me. I sure spent many years hating you. Jesus, please just let me now where I stand with you. If there is any hope or should I cash my chips in now.

  I am hurting right now. Maybe this is not the time to write this letter. No matter what, I have grown to learn to love you and I pray that you love me.

  Heather

   

  • 11:44 pm
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