I Mentioned I Was Afraid

So my friends’ dad died a bit over a week ago. His daughters came back to school on Tuesday. I don’t know how they’re handling it. We’ve talked only a little. Everything has just returned to a very melancholy normal. We are all sadder. And sometimes I am afraid. It’s the selfish kind of afraid. The best way I can describe it is by posting a RECENT Letter to God (most Letters to God that I post are older):

January 15, 2013

Cassie and Erin’s* dad died last night.

Lord. God.

Geez.

Be with them.

I can’t believe it. Geez. He was just okay. Lord. Be there for them. Please. Be there for us too. Please. Geez.

Later.

Jesus wept.

-John 11:35

Shortest verse in the Bible. (And while writing this I thought of this post from one of my friends)

Zelda kept trying to cheer me up. But, for the most part, I wouldn’t be cheered. I know that their dad is up in heaven now, but I’m so sad for them. I know they’re hurting and I’m hurting because they are. My mood has always reflected and absorbed the moods of others. This is no exception, and it’s so much more extreme. I know Cassie and Erin well and I know how they will be when they come to school, and it hurts me.

Sometimes my mood rebounds; sometimes my mood sucks up other moods but still has enough joy to remain fairly upbeat. But this is so different. I know Cassie and Erin. I also know knew their dad. I loved their dad. And it’s not going to be right to go to their house and not see him. God, I already feel his absence.

Death is moving closer. It scares me, Lord. I know that You conquered death and that we have eternal life in and with You, but Lord, I don’t want to lose those I love. This train of thought is so selfish, but, oh, Lord. I want them with me.

Death is moving closer to me personally. First, the Smith’s dad died. I didn’t really know them, other than name. Then Susie’s dad died. I know her enough to be an acquaintance. Then Grace’s dad died. I know her. Last year, I saw her every day, I talked to her every day. We had creative writing together, so I saw her deal with her relationship with You and her overwhelming, poorly disguised sadness. Then Cassie and Erin’s dad. I know them so well and I knew him too. Death has been creeping closer and I’m worried. There’s nothing I can do, but I’m worried.

And the same has been happening at church. Amelia’s dad died and I saw the impact. I saw her astonishing faith in You and how she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that her daddy is with You in heaven. Then Matt, our worship pastor. We saw him every week and then he’s gone. And, I just pray that no one else dies. Lord, I want Death to move no closer. I want You to blow it away, blind it and demolish it. There has been so much death lately and it makes me so gloomy, so sad. And all of those deaths were sudden. None of them were expected. Worry, worry, worry. I know You’ve got it all under control, so Lord, let me not worry.

Please take the worry, the fear, the sorrow (so it doesn’t overwhelm me or Cassie or Erin or their mom or Clementine or Susie or the Smiths or Grace or any of the church who have been touched by death). Take it and give us love and a peace that comes only from You. Give us also a passion to live, because we don’t know when we will leave this world too.

Touched by death: This reminds me of how some Indians would, rather than kill their enemy, touch him and/or take his spear or something. It showed that they were stronger, smarter, better than their enemy, and also made their enemy fear them more for they realized that they had the capability to kill them at any time. And that makes me feel like Satan is using this pattern of sudden deaths to freak us out. Rather than that, Lord give us peace, strength, and courage. Let us not be afraid of death, whether we feel when we will go or not.

Thank You.

Love,

Bria

I wrote all that on the bus. When I got off the bus, my dad opened the door and hugged me. It was like a minute-long hug. I’ve never had a longer hug. That’s one of the only hugs I remember actually getting from him. I’ve also almost never seen my dad cry. But there, his voice was all wobbly, and I could feel his jaw clenching and unclenching during the hug; he was trying not to cry. His eyes were red. My eyes are red.

Lord, there’s too much death.  

*As usual, all names have been changed.

Seeing the World as It Is

Our world is an old quilt, tattering at the edges, ripping in the middle;
all of us affected by the moth-eaten mess and brokenness of our world.

Prayer Request

I found out earlier during school that the dad of one of my really good friends (the dad of two of my really good friends, actually, since they’re twins) died last night. I knew him well, so this is like a double whammy for me: I’m hurting not only because they’re hurting, but because I knew him and I am, therefore, hurting for my own loss too.

So I just ask for prayer because that’s about all there is do right now. He was a Christian and the family is a strong Christian family, but I know that a death, and especially a sudden death like this, has the potential to rock your faith in God and His power and love.

Please pray for peace, for comfort, and for continued strong faith in God as they grapple with the why’s and the how’s of his death.

Please pray that I will not be afraid (more on that later) and that I will have the strength to help them however they may need help.

Thank you! And if you have any prayer requests, comment them below!

Jesus wept. 

-John 11:35

Meaningless

Without God,

everything is meaningless.

With God,

everything is meaningful.

How Writing Reaffirms My Belief in God

I don't understand how writers (anyone really, but especially writers) can be atheists. Writers are the god of their worlds. We create the worlds and the characters down to their every trait and physical feature. 

Depending on how good we write, there should be no obvious proof that we did indeed write and create the characters’ world. The reader’s telltale sign is the fact that they’re holding a book. But to the characters, there shall be little to no evidence that a being outside their little world created their world. 

Yet we did create their worlds. 

Perhaps for some of our characters merely the fact that their world exists would be enough proof for our existence. 

After all, science teaches us that something can't be created from nothing. Right? It's not like specks appeared on the paper without me and then somehow magically created letters and then somehow created words all by themselves without any prior wordmaking or spelling ever before. Oh, and somehow those words got together and BANG! created a whole world with all the characters. 

Not only that, but we all have a basic concept of good. We all cheer for the same good guy; there is no confusion over who should be the good guy, because we all know what good is. How? Because good comes from its source: GOD. Evil, likewise, comes from its source: Satan.

We can know that both God and Satan exist because both good and evil exist. Evil could not stem from God, just as darkness could not come from the sun; only the lack of the sun and the lack of God create darkness and evil. 

God is THE goodness in the world.

“Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone.” 

-Luke 18:19

Basically, since we all have the same basic understanding of what good is, we can know that the definer of good was not and is not ourselves; Someone above and beyond us established good and all that falls under it. That Someone was and is the origin of good (because who else would be capable - and have the right to - define good for all of us?). This means there must be a Being who created us, who fixed the definition of good within us. This means there is God.

And yet, atheists argue that God is not real because He would not let all the bad things happen in this world of His creation. Well, writers let bad things happen in their worlds too. We let bad things occur for basically the same reason I believe God does: to strengthen our characters.

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. -Romans 5:3-5

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. -James 1:2-4

Pain makes us stronger. 

It prepares us for future events, events that would be even worse if not for our experience, and it makes us strong. Makes us strong enough so that at the climax, we do not fall, but stand our ground, and after we have done everything to stand, to stand. Stand firm. (part of Ephesians 6:13-14)

Without the experience of hurt, the pain training, our house of cards would crumble at the first gust of wind. But as it is, our house of cards is given the chance to be fortified with cement.

God is God, and He is real. He is not another figment of our imagination. As writers, and creators of our own worlds, I feel that we should be the first to realize that: God is real!

Jealousy

And the pangs of jealousy leap up. They jump up and down on my heart like a trampoline, willing me to notice them.

I shall not. I shall not notice them. I will ignore them as I try to talk to you, you who makes me jealous, regardless of the fact that we are good friends.

I-you-I am good at-you are too? Oh. I am really good at-oh, of course, you are too. I know! I have a really grade in that one clas-yup. You too.

I know you do not do this to spite me. In fact, you have no idea about any of my jealousy issues. I know you simply happen to be awesome. And I respect you and I love you, but at the same time I rack my mind for something I know I am better at. But no, I will ignore the jealousy creeping up. I will. And I walk away from you so it will not beat me. And my other friends talk about how awesome your writing is. That was the one thing I believed myself to be at than you. …yup. Awkward. And I can’t think of anything else. Surely you are better than me in every way.

I hear laughter in the background. It’s you. You are happy and I am sad. You have won. Bravo. Good job. And I hear more laughter in the background. This isn’t you. It....it’s in my head.

I let Satan win there. I let the demons of jealousy take over and control every part of me. I tried to stop it. I failed to stop it. And I sigh and think of how you wouldn’t have failed. Then I go home dejected and cry.
This sounds very bad. But God used that moment to speak to me. In that crying moment (as with most of my crying moments) I am able to fall to my knees. I am able to go to God. I cry out to Him.

Why am I not as good?

He answers, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.
Oh, I forgot about that. …Why isn’t my faith as strong?
I have given you a measure of faith. -Romans 12:3
Of course…. Why is she more faithful, a better light for You?
I am busy making you someone no one else has ever been. –Psalm 139. I’m still working on you both.
Oh. Really?
Yes. I love you both.
REALLY?
I sent my son Jesus to die for both of you.
Oh yeah. I love Jesus.
I love you, Bria.
Thanks, God.

I failed the first time because I was trying to fight on my own.

I am not strong. Bria means strong, but I am not strong. I needed God’s help and I wouldn’t admit it, but instead continued to try on my own. It didn’t work. It never works. I need God.

I read her blog. She is a very talented writer and a very strong witness. That’s when the jealousy began to gnaw on my heart again. And this is the result. This post right here.

I ask God for the strength to keep the jealousy away.

I ask God for love for her, love that consumes and swallows up the jealousy trying to get me.

I ask God for joy at her writing ability and her successful blog.

I thank God that she is an amazing friend and I thank God that she can help me know Him more, because she has awesome faith.

Finally, I ask God for forgiveness. I’m sorry that I let Satan get a foothold. I’m sorry that I was jealous and envious. I know that both jealousy and envy have their root in fear, the fear that I will not be taken care of, that You have forgotten me or given me the wrong things and abilities. I know You have plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11) and that you will supply me with what I need. I’m sorry for that lack of faith that allowed me to be jealous and envious. Replace any further jealousies or envies with pure joy at her ability to reach and teach so many.

 I’m sorry, Hannah, for being jealous of you. Please forgive me.

And now, here is a link to Hannah’s blog.

Go read it! Away with you!

(Wow, I feel so much better. Thank You, Lord.)

P.S. I wrote this in August. Ever since I wrote this, I haven’t been jealous. We have become great friends and I can enjoy our friendship and all that God teaches me through her because I am not jealous! Thank You, Lord!

Where is God? (Vice Verses.)

The news is so sad today.

The Connecticut shooting.

A bomb threat in a local school.

A suicide.

A murder.

A car crash.

The best news I’ve heard is that the woman in the car crash may not die.

The news is so sad today.

Why God?

I definitely can’t answer any better than this amazing old pastor of mine.

Or:

Finally, I understand this song. Or at least, more than I ever have before.