I was always better with words on paper than speaking aloud. We met on a very fated Sunday afternoon on the bright sunny patio. I couldn’t stop shaking the whole time, I was so nervous. Was it obvious? Did it show on my face? Course not, I kept my sunglasses on to protect myself.
It wasn’t easy coming to church after so many years. I don’t think I would have come at all if it wasn’t for a book someone bought me. I remember laying on my bed trying to figure how much time passed. Minutes? Hours? Days? Everything seemed to blur together and I felt so exhausted no matter how much rest I got.
And then it happened, the doorbell rang and I was surprised. I keep no one close to me. I always enjoyed my solitude. Whether it was family, school, or work I always minded my own business. I don’t know how I managed to roll out of bed and answer the door but there stood a familiar face with a wrapped present and food.
“I know you love to read so I asked around at the bookstore for recommendations. This guy about your age said it was good.” They replied sheepishly when I asked what it was.
They had brought my food! Oh how happy I was, what a wonderful day it was going to be. I was tired of eating ramen day in and day out twice a day. It was a salad, a rare treat.
They left and I ate quickly. Before I lived on my own I never appreciated food. How wonderful it tasted, how it feels for the flavors to explode in your mouth and a sigh to escape your lips. How long has it been since I’ve had a real piece of pineapple? To taste real cucumbers? I could cry from happiness.
The wrapped present was left untouched for hours, I went out but I don’t remember for what. When I had come back home it was late and it was there sitting on my bed waiting for me. I remember opening it and frowning.
Do you know what made me frown? Are you even still reading or did you disregard this letter already? The title of this book that had awaken me from my troubles, that had brought me to church, that had led me to meet you. Do you want to know what it was?
Don’t Waste Your Life.
Yes, what a title right? What a great title. I hated it on the spot. Oh but to read was a sinful pleasure I enjoyed like no other! How easy it was to escape into a book and away from reality! Could you peg me for a reader? For anything at all?
I read it, am still reading it. I wanted to cry when I was in the first two chapters. The writer begs me not to waste my life, begs me not to throw everything away. Begs me to turn to Jesus.
And that’s when it hit me, I had wasted my life.
WHAT? You must be thinking. YOU’RE SO YOUNG! No my dear friend I am young in years but I've experienced so much already I feel old to the world. You know those children whom bad things happen to and you feel sad because they don’t deserve that? I am one of those children.
I’ve been beaten, cursed at, felt the touch of a man having my innocence as a small child ruined before my time. What a terrible childhood I endured. But books saved me, books always saved me.
Seeing the title and reading about how not to waste my life depressed me more than cursing.
I came to church with one question: How to I salvage what I have left? I have waste it! I have wasted my youth! Help me before I die regretting everything!
But all I could do is cry.
I told you my current situation through tears. Do you know how hard it is for a prideful woman to admit she cannot do it on her own? How hard it is to face cruel reality and have no solution?
You told me not to worry. Told me God could do anything, to just keep looking for a job. Told me that worse things have happened.
None of it helped me. I felt like you threw a fifty dollar gas card at me and told me to leave. I immediately regretted coming to church right then and there. Of course that’s how the church would react! I felt so stupid. Of course no one would trust me, would believe me. I’m a stranger, not a body of this church. No one would take my word. No one would really care deep down inside.
I was so upset.
But listen dear friend, I’ve had time to think it over and now I am sound of mind again. I am no longer upset. God works in mysterious ways, does He not? I came looking for help, and He gave me you. Maybe you want no part of this, maybe you rather I never bother you again. If so dear friend let me know. I am still a stranger to you now, I doubt you even remember my name.
You could send me to a counselor, I’ve heard about them. You can wash your hands of me and no one would be the wiser. You must have a lot on your plate already as it is.
Or you could email me back a reply with some real words of wisdom instead of telling me nine times that God parted the sea. I know he did, I know it’s amazing. I agree that it’s amazing but no matter how small or big a problem is still a scary thing to face wouldn’t you think?
I can’t help but worry, no one can help but worry when something bad happens. We are all human. It takes someone special with great faith in the Lord not to worry. And lets face it I’m not at the stage yet. It is hard for me not to worry. The unknown is big and ominous sometimes.
I wish I could have told you all these things face to face. Wish we could have actually sat down and talked. But my tears get the best of me, I apologize for not being able to speak to you properly about why I came to church in the first place.
Today I read Pslam 37, I’m sorry I didn’t start on Mark yet. I promise I will. It was recommended to me and I read it once, and I thought it beautiful.
I feel like the prodigal son. I am off alone in the world except I’m not enjoying myself. I am working hard to create a future for myself on my own. The only plot twist I see here is that when it all falls apart I have no one to come back home to. So I stay with the pigs and dream on.
I wonder what God has in store for me, do you wonder the same things? You know, you’re still very young yourself. I suppose God has many exciting plans for you.
You know just between you and me I used to think about God a lot in the back of my mind. He’d always be on my mind and I felt a small comfort in it. I didn’t want to grow cold and hard. The fact that I wept so much on Sunday left me feeling relieved. I wept for the life I had wasted, I wept for the life I had ruined and now my future was blank. All I hear now is the writer begging me not to waste my life.
If you actually finished reading this letter I thank you.
If you reply it would be wonderful.
If neither happens well, well it’s okay too.
You’re a good person Daniel; God wouldn’t have put us into each other’s paths if you weren’t. You don’t have to be a puppy lover to be a good person. You just have to show that to care.
I still haven’t used the gas card, that girl I met on Sunday wants me to go to some church thing on Thursday. I plan to use it then and then again on Sunday I will come back to Harvest.
How often should I read my Bible? Everyday? Twice a day? Never stop? How close do you have to cling so that you don’t slip back into the world? I haven’t prayed yet, I’m scared to talk to God. I am ashamed of myself that I fail so miserably. They say he knows everything. I feel if he already knows there’s no need to tell him what I’ve done. Only ask what I should do now.
But then again I’m pretty sure he wants to hear from me. :]
-yours truly
the star polisher
