Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Dear God


To: Abba Yahweh
From: Your daughter, janae


It has taken me a long time to figure out what I’m missing: You, Lord. And it doesn’t matter where on earth I am, I will continue to miss my Father, even though I’ve never even seen You.

I’ve never really known You. There’s no way I could possibly completely know You and who You are, but yet there’s this void in me that the more I grasp of You, however miniscule it may be compared to who You really are, that void, that pain, that aching, that longing, whatever it is, is somehow balmed with Your amazing prescience. I was made to know You—or, at least, to try to.

The more I am given the grace to understand You, the more I long for more. The more I think about You, the more I’m disgusted with how this world, this race, has fallen short of everything You had hoped for in the beginning. The more I feel the stark contrast, the more I marvel that You would even make a creation that You knew would turn itself fallen and disgraceful, hiding its face from Your glory. The more I see how wretched I am, the more I mourn and rejoice in Your Son and His Sacrifice. But, alas, the praise I offer must be jaded, as I am a part, a cause, of this mockery and shame. I’m so sorry for that…

I long to be in the place I was made for—Your prescience. I long to be rid of this soiled and filthily ruined makeshift earthly flesh. I want to run on the greener pastures You promise to lead me to. I want to dance on Your holy hills, to make You smile. I want to drink of Your Living Water—the sweet water You spoke of. But most of all, I want to see the Perfect One that this imperfect being cannot even dare to imagine.

I can hardly wait to sing with Your angels of Your praiseworthy glory. There is no one else that deserves the praise I was created to give. The only thing I know is that the glorious wonders I see here on earth and fail to comprehend are only horrible reflections in a fogged mirror of who You are.

I find myself daydreaming about Your Face being the Sun of my world when I should be answering questions about magnetism in physics. I find myself pondering the completeness I will feel when You speak, instead of computing algebraic problems. You’re getting in the way of my life! But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d much rather see the glory of the miraculous oxygen in our atmosphere than miss the beauty of the love You paint in the sunsets. As the rain falls, I would rather dance in the dispersing of Your joy than melt in the cold snowfall that blesses the countryside. As I gaze at the stars—well, there are no words for that.

Thank you for all this. I cannot believe Someone as huge, as important, as needed, as indescribable as You—the Creator of the universe—would even stop to call my name and call me, “friend.” I thank you that someday soon, I will no longer have to see the fractured perfection of the world my race has destroyed but will be where I belong: with the One to whom I belong.

I miss You. I only want to be with You. Please, help me to remember to work out the things You left for me to do well, so that I can all the quicker be with You, hearing You say, “Well done, my child. Come and share my joy for the rest of eternity.”

Forever Yours. See You soon! 

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