I’m going back to the start.

Dear God,

 

How can I think that anyone other than you can love me as great as you do. I can’t handle this anymore.

I don’t want to go through this just to get to the other side. This isn’t fair. That my innocence was stolen. I’m glad others had the chance to hand it out. But not me. How is that fair? That some. I can’t do this! Why is it ok that other people can carry on? That I am stuck behind this wall of sea? Help me get to the shore.

Repair. Every piece I work, I break. Only you can make them stick together forever.

I’m in this coffee shop dreaming of the impossible. I can’t dream. Because. BECAUSE. Every time I do. I just see his face. Not Yours. What an unfaithful lover.

Marriage.

Why does it sound foolish coming out of my mouth? That someone would want me after I have been so deeply wounded. Because I hide it so well. Now you see it. Now you don’t. How can I tell everyone else that your mercies are new each day if I don’t believe it for my own eternal life? That you called me. That you chose to love me. Knowing I would spit in your face. Knowing that I would shame you. That I would run. You loved me still. You love me still. I can’t be still.

I just run. No man would dare bend a knee and ask. If he knew I would just run. But you bent over backwards. Broke your back walking up that dark hill. Lord. Forgive me.

I hear people say that you hold everything in your hand. Sometimes I think your grip is too tight. That I’m a beastly child. Flailing. Crying. Screaming. Kicking. But you never let go. Sometimes I wish you would leave me alone. But I’m glad you don’t.

I pray that I am not grieving the Holy Spirit by my angst.

His son died in a car accident. I haven’t talked to him in five years. I am taken back. To it. But I can’t fully live there. Not in that memory. Because it was just a cover for another boiling pit of tar in my heart. Why am I jealous of him? That he chose another woman to have his last name. I don’t even like his last name. And I’m so sad for him. I want to hold him. Pray for him. Comfort him. Mother him. But it’s not my place. God. Jesus. Before I knew my king I tried to sneak in front of these men instead of your throne. Hoping that my worship to them would make me worthy of love. They never loved me like You.

But the thief. He. I can’t say his name with out my stomach going sour. I’m sitting in Pikes Perk. The barista has the same major has his wife. How weak I was. I ate out of his palm. Why did you not hide me from him? Was there no room in your palm? God. How does my heart begin to heal? This story doesn’t seem right. I don’t think you wrote it right. You wove me in my mother’s womb. You called to me before I even knew you. You know every hair on my head. Then why? You know the desires of my heart. You hold them in heaven where I can’t reach them? Am I allowed to ask all these questions with out pausing for you to answer? Do I just wait? Am I plagued like Job? Am I going to be blessed like Job? Or will I be turned into a pillar of salt? God. I don’t know what to think. How.

I just asked the guitarist from upstairs if he needed help carrying things down. He has a beard. Glasses. He was loud up there. I should have picked up his album.

Have you promised me someone? Even if you have. Will it be a good marriage? Will we be poor? Poor in spirit? Will we have children? Will we ever meet? If we do. If. And I tell him about my past. Will he not know what to do with me? Do I intimidate men because I don’t want them to know? Is the reason that under cover? Or is it just a game? I want someone to love me like Christ loved the Church. Died. Stole my sin away. Then came back to live in me. How is that fair? You’re kingdom is head over feet.

You know I love you. just call me Peter. Why do I make you ask me three times? How perfect you are. This isn’t fair.

My friend. She says. She says that I should make a list of all the things I have the freedom to do since I’m single. If I had my choice I’d just read the book. Mock someone Else’s documented life and ignore my own.

Reasons why I’m here:

-You don’t make accidents. I know I’m yours. That’s all I get to know sometimes.

-I was in the belly of the beast and you pulled me out. You were stronger than my doubt. Stronger than my pain. So I just clung to your robe.

-You gave me this gift of loving people. With food. I have a passion to feed others. Spiritually and physically. Because of you. You put that little light in my oven.

-I get to love my family as deeply and unconditionally as they deserve because of you. You saved me so that I witness to them. So that I could tell them what a great Father you are.

-If I was married I would chose my family over my career. You have made my career and my passion one thing(please don’t let me ruin that).

-If I had children I wouldn’t be able to pour into the children at Fountain Valley.

-If I was married. I don’t know that I would have the same testimony. There are so many women who don’t know who they are with out a man disfiguring their hearts. But because you loved me ferociously. Now I can tell my sisters in Christ what it means to be redeemed. To trust you. To know how deep your grace can reach.

-Since I am single I can stay up all hours of the night with my friends. They are a blessing to me. Thank you for sending them to lean on and pray with. We sometimes fight until we end up at your throne.

-I can talk to you and chose you everyday. I don’t have a husband that gets in the way. I don’t need another idol.

-I can spread out on my own bed and not share blankets.

-If I don’t brush my teeth. I’m the only one who cares.

-If I want to go see a movie, I don’t have to compromise with anyone. Same applies for food. Walks. Hiking. Spending time with family. Volunteering. Which church…

-i know I’m ok with being alone. 

-I don’t care what other people think of me. If what I’m wearing is ok. If my hair is ok. You don’t care what others think. I only care about your opinion of me.

(The new customer here is flirting with the male barista. The female barista has my name.)

-If you called me to a mission somewhere across the globe, I wouldn’t second guess it. I wouldn’t have to pray about it with my husband. 

-I don’t have to take care of anyone but me. It’s hard to take care of others day in and day out. Especially when you’re related to them.

-I know you’re the only one who can read my mind and my journals.

-I dont’ have to separate laundry.

Dear future husband,

I dont’ know if you can handle me. If i knew I was supposed to wait for you, I would not have been so foolish. I’m so glad we share so many interests. Like loving Jesus. I have been praying that God would send me someone who was passionate and on fire for Him. I can’t believe you don’t let anyone or anything get in your way of serving God. You make me feel safe and protected. I know you cherish me. 

I can’t do this. I’m too type A at this point to pretend that I know you. That I would write you a letter. If I actually did know you I would write to you. Everyday. But I’m not very good at fiction.

What I would like in a future husband(I just pictured a pink paper back book with a

insert of the author. she is a blonde cali girl)

-Loves Jesus. Knows Him. Follows Him. Lays down his life daily.

-Is kind. Is obvious yet quiet about loving everyone unconditionally.

-Serves out of love not out of obligation.

-Funny. Makes me laugh and gets my sense of humor.

-Intelligent. But doesn’t flaunt it. Or lets his intelligence inflate his ego.

-humble humble humble. Doing the good works God has asked of him. Secretly.

-Will eat anything. I don’t like picky eaters. This is different from refined taste.

-Will travel.

-Will want children.

(My answers are getting shorter because this place closes at 11. It’s 10:21)

-Speaks another language. 

-Will swing dance with me.

-Will lead me.

-Will call me out when I’m being ridiculous.

-Love dogs. Not cats.

-Love the mountains and out doors. I don’t. Yet. 

-Adventurous and spontaneous.

-Will understand that. Sometimes. I just need solitude.

 

God you know I love you. But no matter how you cut it. I still feel like Peter. I deny you. I doubt you. Then I come right back. And I love you for it. For your big heart.

 

I love you.

 

save me.

again.

-kt

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