Love Letter

I love you.

I should come out and say that, off the bat.

But you would know that already. Well, you *should* know that by now, anyway.

But in the event that you *didn’t*, now you know.

I love you.

I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And right now, as you’re thinking about this, you will never ever be able to understand the depth of how much I honestly, truly love you.

If you’ve ever heard of John 3:16, you’ve probably never completely thought through that verse. So let me enlighten you:

“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whomever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life.”

I gave up my Son.

My one and only Son…and you took that for granted. You’re taking it for granted right now.

So all I want to know right now…is *why*?

You might think, “What’s the big deal—He gave up His Son? So? He didn’t give up His own life. Why is that so significant? Why is that verse, like, the cornerstone of Christianity itself?”

The worst form of torture…is watching someone you love suffer. Someone you love with all your heart and soul is being hurt and killed…and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.

Imagine that. Imagine seeing your one and only child be tortured right in front of your eyes. That’s the worst pain imaginable because *you can’t even do anything about it*.

I gave up my *Son*.

I had to watch him suffer the worst kinds of pain.

That’s why that verse is so important—so significant. Because I loved you enough to sacrifice my very own Son to save your souls. I couldn’t give up *mine*—I had to give up *HIS*.

And now…you’re making all his suffering and all my suffering all for naught because you don’t want to listen to me.

I’m here! I’m now! Open your eyes and see me!

Hello??

I’m right here, loving you and hoping you’d love me back. But you’re too busy loving him or her—that boyfriend or girlfriend. You’ve got them on this pedestal, and you’ve pushed me into the storage closet. After everything I’ve done for you, all you can think of is the bad times, how I “abandoned” you.

I have never ever abandoned you. I’m always there. I’ve always been there, but when the first bad thing happened, you ignored me. You wouldn’t trust me; you would even *listen* to me.

Then again, you were probably too busy screaming at me because you were so angry that I’d “left” you. I have never left you. Seriously? Did you forget the whole “omnipresent” part? I am *always* with you whether you want me there or not.

Then when they broke your heart, you tried to find someone else to replace that love when I’m right here. I’ve always been here, and you keep ignoring me, passing me over! I will love you more than that. I won’t say the words then take them back.

Why do you this?

Why do you break my heart?

I just want to be with you, but you constantly reject me—even try to push me out of *history*! You think just because I’m powerful that I can’t feel rejection, pain, sorrow? You think I’m all vengeance and fury? All punishment and impartiality?

I’m not.

Otherwise I wouldn’t be here, writing this love letter to you.

Because that’s what this is: a love letter… One begging for you to love me back. That’s all I want—for you to love me. For you to think twice about hurting yourself because when you do that, you’re hurting me.

And there is nothing more in this world that I want: never will you hurt anymore. When bad things happen, you think I *enjoy* that? You think I’m so sadistic as to enjoy people’s pain? I cry for them. I cry when they take away their own life or foolishly, blindly take away someone else’s. I gave that gift to you: Life.

And you waste it because you want to “live”. Reality check: that’s not living. That blunt, that sniff, that drink—that’s not living. I don’t care if you’re in high school or you’re fifty years old, don’t you *dare* take advantage of my gift to you because you know what? I can very easily take it back. You know what, there doesn’t even have to be any effort on my part—you’re doing it all yourself anyway.

I gave you Life, but I never promised you tomorrow.

I gave you the world, but you’ve messed it up.

I give you a second chance, but you can’t even learn from your past mistakes.

Here is my heart…

Now all I ask is for you not to break it. Because I’m tired.

I’m tired of being rejected.

I’m tired of my own children writing books about me and saying that I don’t even exist. Oh, trust me, I exist. You think the world came out of one giant bang? Yeah, you know who made that bang?

Look outside—look at gardens, forests, oceans… You think that was made at random? Look at the animals, and look at yourself. I made you, and I know full well that I did an amazing job. I don’t care if you don’t like your nose, your eyes, your hair—*I* like them. I made them for you because I love you, but you’ve become so superficial that my love isn’t enough for you.

I’m tired of forming all these babies and having them sent back to me anyway. You didn’t even give them a *chance*! The decisions you guys make are seriously making me regret coming up with that whole “free will” nonsense. You try and bend the decision in the situation where a mother’s life is at stake, but you know what? Maybe they’ve lived long enough. Maybe it’s time they stepped back and gave their child a chance to live. Maybe I want that mother to come home to me. If you didn’t want a baby, you should think about birth control—that’s what it’s for isn’t it? Don’t kill someone to clean up a mess you made. And even if someone *did you wrong*, killing that baby is not going to make up for that mistake. Two wrongs don’t make a right. You have other options. Pro-choice is just another way to twist the language to say “pro-murder”. Because face it, that’s what it is. That cell—no matter how miniscule it is—is *alive*.

And I made boys and girls for a reason, ladies and gentlemen. Two genders. Not one. I’ve made it clear and simple in the Book, so don’t twist it around.

I’ve said these things over and over—tried drilling it in your heads, but you know what? There’s a point where I’m done. When you die, there’s no turning back. You made your choices, and now you’ll face the consequences—good or bad.

I hope you choose me.

I hope you choose to love me.

In this world of fear and darkness, I’m the only one that can give you light, comfort, *hope*. Listen to me. Look at me. Trust me. Believe me.

And if you choose to love me back (YAY!), love me with all your heart. When you jump into this relationship, you better dive in all the way. You’re hot or you’re cold, yes or no. All or nothing.

So here’s my hand.

I hope you take it.



I will love you for far longer than forever,
God.





Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

silverlite9 said...
May 22, 2011 at 8:00 pm
That...was amazing. It hit so close to home, and I'm so glad I was able to find this. You are so blessed with this gift of writing. Never stop.
 
rydinghi said...
Apr. 16, 2010 at 7:16 pm

wow

great job, this is really good!

keep writing!

 
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