The person this is written about will never read this, and I will never, ever put a name with it. Writing this is my way of working through my thoughts after having time to contemplate tragic news. Wow, it is difficult to process something so dreadful in a Christ-like manner, as the humanness wants to take over.
Dear Old Friend,
I know what you did. You don't know I know, but it wouldn't likely matter to you whether or not I know. You're in a dark place now, where folks are not likely to be kind to you, and your thoughts are probably often consumed with survival.
I'm sick with the knowledge. Part of me wishes I didn't know. It's the kind of thing that reminds you of the bliss ignorance really is in comparison.
My heart hurts for your family way more than it hurts for you. But there's still room for a bit of compassion toward you. I now understand why you clung so stubbornly to your "cheap grace," a way to justify your secrets in your own mind.
The ache in my heart--I don't know what to do with, about, or for it. I just keep praying . . .
. . . for those who loved you--that they may find truth and healing and the true love they need.
. . . for you--that the depths that haunt you will bring you to your knees; that the prideful chains around your heart will be broken; that you, too, will find and accept truth, healing, and true love.
Prayer is all I've got for you, my old friend. I don't have the courage to go where you are and try to talk to you, nor am I under the impression that it's my place to do so at this point. I have no words, anyway.
Not to minimize prayer. It's really the best thing I can do. Whether or not you submit to what God wants to do in your life in response to people's prayers for you is completely up to you. I hope you somehow know that someone is praying for you. Probably more than one someone.
You SO don't deserve to be prayed for. You don't deserve forgiveness or any sliver of kindness or compassion or friendship.
But, then, neither do I. From a human viewpoint, I haven't sunk into the depths of depravity that you have, but your sins were no less covered by Jesus' blood than mine. Without Jesus Christ, the Jesus of the Bible (not the one you made up), I'd be in the same depths by a different route.
I'm so thankful for His compassion, I can't not extend a portion of it to you. How I pray you will remember your roots, your passion for truth and justice--your love for Jesus! You did love Him in days long past. I remember.
I more than likely won't see you again on this earth. I don't know if I'll see you after that. I know where I'll be, but I don't know what you'll choose in the time you have left to make such choices. What I'm sure of, though, is that if we're both there, neither of us will deserve to be. We won't have gotten there on our own, by anything we've done or thought or said.
We'll both get there the same way. Jesus' grace isn't cheap, my friend. I'm praying you'll embrace His expensive (yet free to us!), lavish grace and find peace for your obviously-tortured soul.
-L-
