You say that capitalism saves the world. You say that death is an instinct for you. You say that you no longer believe in love.
These are just some things you say.
So I wonder: in the face of this instinct of yours, this cold thing calling to you, what will your messiah do to help you? How will it come to your aid or give you comfort or the tiniest glimmer of hope in your isolation? How will it do these things? How does the god of capitalism save a person’s heart and soul?
I’m willing to have you hate me. I’m willing to have you think I’m an idiot, a fool, clinging to my religion, whatever. I’m willing to have you say, “That girl is whacked; I’m never talking to her again.” I’m willing to have you despise me forever, if you must. But right now, you are in a very dark cold place. The demons of too many wounds are swirling around you and they want you. I can feel them from here and I am not willing to remain silent.
That you’ve been so horribly abused in your life, I can never ever take away. I would if I could, hon. I would in a heartbeat. You’ve experienced profound evil, so you must surely know it exists.
But …….
I know you’ve known love, too. Maybe not enough. Maybe not often enough or consistently enough. But along the way, you have and, even now, you do.
So there isn’t just evil in this life. There is love, too, and it comes from somewhere. It has a Source. Water has a source. Light has a source. These basic things have a source. So love, that most important of things, must have a source, too. It can’t be manmade, can it? No. No. We’re too unreliable. We’re too selfish and blind and fickle and uncaring. We are the wind. And you need a Rock.
You were prayed for the other night. Total strangers wept for you. Total strangers took you — anonymously — and laid you and your very life at the feet of Jesus.
They did because I asked them to. And I ask anyone reading this now to do the same. Because there is love, hon. The Great Love, The Source, Jesus Christ.
He is Love and He does not disappoint. He is the one your heart longs for even though you can’t acknowledge it. He understands you like no one else ever has or ever will. He speaks your name with joy and pride for what He made in you.
Go ahead. Tell him you’re pissed. Tell him life has f***ed you over. Tell him you’re terrified. Tell him you want to die. Tell him you despair. Tell him you hate. Tell him you think He doesn’t exist. He can take it. He is, simply, Love.
You will do what you will do. I cannot stop you from here. I cannot hop on a plane to where you are. I cannot pick up the phone and expect you to answer. I cannot take whatever it is out of your hands. I would, if I were there. I would fight you and the cold thing calling you with everything I have.
But I can’t and I have wept long over the fact that I can’t. All I have is this battered keyboard and these feeble words and these aimless tears that are falling for you even now, as I write.
All I can do is tell you please do not leave this life without calling on Him. You do that and I have no doubt He will live up to his end of the eternal bargain.
Then, my very dear girl, if you feel you simply must leave this place ….. well, then, someday, I will meet you there, okay?
I love you.