I'm sitting here on the verge of what could be a very important day, and it causes me to reflect on those times when what I wanted got in the way of what is best. We've all been selfish before, and we've all made complete fools of ourselves. And I still feel the pain of having done that once, and forgiveness and reconciliation were not forthcoming. Maybe they will never be. And on the one hand, I was wrong; I made a mistake. There's no hiding it. And my insecurities as a person I tried to hand off, even blame, on someone else. Even if I hoped to find support, it was a lot. It was too much.
I absolutely meant what I said in my apology written here, and I still do. And even though I'm ready and willing to wait until the New Heavens and New Earth for that reconciliation to come, it obviously still bothers me really deeply. Or I wouldn't be talking about it.
And I do need to say I'm angry about it. I'm proud enough that my reputation means a great deal to me. In my anger, I could pretend that this false opinion, this impression, this breach has no impact on me, but it does. To be frank about it, there hasn't been a day when I haven't thought about it. The deep mourning has subsided, largely. But the scar abides. There isn't a single day I don't hope for a postcard, or a call, or something. Even if I think that person has been unfair. Even if my hurt and anger wouldn't be far away. I've been gifted with the tendrest of hearts, and a gift for expressing what that heart feels in words. (I think.) You could not imagine what I would say, the sorrow I would express! Probably that letter will end up in a book, but it will be written, I'm simply warning you all now. Probably on the lips of one of my characters. But it will be spoken.
You do not know how many times I thought to rebel, to break the silence imposed upon me. But I haven't, out of respect. And so many times, I wanted someone other than God and the saints to share the hurt with, but there are too many bonds between us; it wouldn't be fair to any of them.
It might even be risky to write it here, but this is Jason Kettinger, relatively unfiltered here. If I can't say it here, I can't say it even to myself.
It happens to everybody, they say. Losing friends. But not to me. At least not before this. And I really don't know what to do. The world really does look a lot drearier now; there is less joy in my heart now. I don't mean to scare you; I'm just being honest. When Jason Kettinger says, "friends forever," he bloody well means it. It's not a yearbook quote, it's the truth. So a part of me has died, but I still live. I just need to say that the pain comes from the hope, and the laughter that was mine in better days. I can picture what I'd say, what I'd do if I could. Do you remember how Joseph couldn't control himself in the presence of his brothers? He wept as only one or two others ever have. So I would be. My heart betrays me even now. Maybe this has become that letter.
I hope and pray that this suffering is useful to You, my Lord Jesus Christ. It is but a pittance compared with the rejection that you felt at our hands, but it is real. Please bring someone joy and comfort by this suffering. Please bring comfort to my friend. Please give me the right words for this other task. Come quickly, and don't leave me behind. Amen.
I absolutely meant what I said in my apology written here, and I still do. And even though I'm ready and willing to wait until the New Heavens and New Earth for that reconciliation to come, it obviously still bothers me really deeply. Or I wouldn't be talking about it.
And I do need to say I'm angry about it. I'm proud enough that my reputation means a great deal to me. In my anger, I could pretend that this false opinion, this impression, this breach has no impact on me, but it does. To be frank about it, there hasn't been a day when I haven't thought about it. The deep mourning has subsided, largely. But the scar abides. There isn't a single day I don't hope for a postcard, or a call, or something. Even if I think that person has been unfair. Even if my hurt and anger wouldn't be far away. I've been gifted with the tendrest of hearts, and a gift for expressing what that heart feels in words. (I think.) You could not imagine what I would say, the sorrow I would express! Probably that letter will end up in a book, but it will be written, I'm simply warning you all now. Probably on the lips of one of my characters. But it will be spoken.
You do not know how many times I thought to rebel, to break the silence imposed upon me. But I haven't, out of respect. And so many times, I wanted someone other than God and the saints to share the hurt with, but there are too many bonds between us; it wouldn't be fair to any of them.
It might even be risky to write it here, but this is Jason Kettinger, relatively unfiltered here. If I can't say it here, I can't say it even to myself.
It happens to everybody, they say. Losing friends. But not to me. At least not before this. And I really don't know what to do. The world really does look a lot drearier now; there is less joy in my heart now. I don't mean to scare you; I'm just being honest. When Jason Kettinger says, "friends forever," he bloody well means it. It's not a yearbook quote, it's the truth. So a part of me has died, but I still live. I just need to say that the pain comes from the hope, and the laughter that was mine in better days. I can picture what I'd say, what I'd do if I could. Do you remember how Joseph couldn't control himself in the presence of his brothers? He wept as only one or two others ever have. So I would be. My heart betrays me even now. Maybe this has become that letter.
I hope and pray that this suffering is useful to You, my Lord Jesus Christ. It is but a pittance compared with the rejection that you felt at our hands, but it is real. Please bring someone joy and comfort by this suffering. Please bring comfort to my friend. Please give me the right words for this other task. Come quickly, and don't leave me behind. Amen.
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