Dear God ...

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Tiffany_M_S

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2:26pm, Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
(7/28/2010)

Dear God,

I come to you in a veil of tears. I have sinned and am ashamed of who I am. You dry my tears, and embrace me. Smiling, you hold me, and in a tender, sweet voice, the voice of my Father, you say, “Tomorrow’s another day. Sleep, my little one, sleep. I shall make it right.”

You know that I am not perfect. You know that, no matter how hard I try, I can never be like you. I try to express this, but it’s difficult. I do not always have the proper words to say, “I’m sorry,” nor do I always understand why you do what you do, or why you have the laws that you have.

But you are not angry. You say softly, murmuring love letters in my ear, “My child, it is your nature to push the boundaries. You are curious, and you want to see how far you can go. It is how I have made you. You are adventurous. But understand, my child, that you must follow my commandments. It is for your safety. After all, as it is with most children, you do not always understand what is good for you.”

Constantly, everyday, I fall short of your grace, oh Lord. I try and try and try, but I could never be as good as you. Not nearly as perfect. But you lift me up and stare at me with a smile. You laugh softly, and say, “My child, you are the love of my life! Filled to the point of over-flowing with love, am I for you! No, you are not perfect, but you are amazing to me! I delight in everything you do right, and I know that it is your very nature to make mistakes. Forgiving, am I to you, for if you come to Me, I can make it right.”

Everyday, I choose actions that disgrace me. Everyday, I choose a life that would hurt myself and others, and yet, you speak soothingly in my ear as you clean my wounds, “There. All better. Now, you know not to do this next time, don’t you?” Your words are scolding, but gentle, and kind. I could have no other God but you. It is you who give me the reason to exist.

Sometimes, I wonder why I get hurt. I wonder why people can be so cruel. You sigh, and say, “Child of mine, life is not always fair. My other children do not like you, but you must remember that you were not the first to be persecuted. My Son, Jesus, was nailed to the cross. He was in great pain, when he died. However, he was persecuted for a purpose, and when that purpose was fulfilled, he breathed fresh life into you. Do you not know that I would not allow this to happen without reason? It makes you stronger, and it shows that, even in this painful time, if you do my will, I will make you strong. It shows you to have faith in me, because I will only give you as much as you can handle. My darling, it shows what a good person you are.”

There are many times when I feel that I can’t go on another step, that I am alone. But you are the voice that whispers in my ear, “Do not give up, my little one! One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. You’re not alone! I am here, and I love you!”

My Lord, there are so many ways you show me your love. So many chances you give me. It is amazing that you have so much grace when I have so little. So much do I do wrong, and yet, you are so patient with me, always smiling and waiting for me to come home.

So, here and now, I surrender myself to you. For to do so is to bathe in your love and be made clean.

Wash me with your love, Lord, and teach me to follow Thy commandments. Make me a follower of your light, and let me not stray from Thy path again.

Bathe me in the light of your grace, and teach me to glorify you, so that I may praise all that is good in you, shout out your name to the masses, and testify that Jesus is Lord.

I love you, God. With all my heart. For you are truly my father, and how could a father not love his baby girl?

Sincerely,
Tiffany
 
Tiffany,

Thank you. That was beautiful. I post with tears in my eyes.

Thank you.
 
You’re very welcome. I truly enjoy writing things like this. When I’m in a spiritual mood, posts like these take up much of my time. God gifted me with the ability to write, and I figured that I should probably put my gift to good use. After all, we were born to live with and in him.

Actually, writing letters like these makes me feel closer to God. It’s our way of talking, I guess.
 
You’re very welcome. I truly enjoy writing things like this. When I’m in a spiritual mood, posts like these take up much of my time. God gifted me with the ability to write, and I figured that I should probably put my gift to good use. After all, we were born to live with and in him.

Actually, writing letters like these makes me feel closer to God. It’s our way of talking, I guess.
Could you do a meditation on St. Benedict?
 
I could, but you would have to tell me what he was like. I know very little about Catholicism. I’m just beginning to go to Mass. I know the basics, but I don’t know much about the Saints. Give me some literature or give me a link to a website that has some. I would be more than happy to write a letter to him for you, but I need the information first.
 
Dear Saint Benedict,

I find you to be a most reverent and amazing Saint. Truly, God has gifted you with the power of words.

We, as young folk, are tempted every day. We long to sin for the temporary pleasures that it brings us. But you cry out, “Hold fast! Hold fast to your faith! Sin not, but sit closer to God, and listen to what he has to tell you! For it is in God’s love that you are healed! Saved! Free!”

My dear Saint, my whole life has been filled with vice. Rarely do I come to own the virtue that was bestowed upon you at such an early age. Strong are you to follow the Call of the Lord and make something of yourself in life.

When your friends encouraged you to sin against the Lord, stray from the Lord, you said, “Not me. I shall live in the light of the one true God. Worship your vices while you may. It will be your undoing in the end!”

So passionate were you, Saint Benedict, that you consumed yourself completely in solitude so that you might better hear the word of the Lord, and bring light to his Masses. Out of this solitude, you brought fellowship. Out of your silence, you spoke.

Dear Saint Benedict, you were not proud as a man. To you, yourself, your worthiness only mattered to you if it was in the eyes of the Lord. Clearly, you are devoted to God.

You have inspired me. Read to me, oh Saint Benedict, in the silence of the Church! Whisper God’s words into my ear, and teach me, oh Saint, to speak reverently of God; good of God. Teach me to write words of Holiness, so that I might help the people around me to live a more pias life.

Oh, Saint Benedict! My life is filled with vice! My brave Saint Benedict, please intervene, so that should I feel too ashamed, that God might hear my plea, a poor sinner, drowning in the mud of a corrupt and shameful world!

Oh, Saint Benedict! You know how I feel. You understand what I mean, for you, yourself, held witness to the damage that vice, in its addictiveness can do. Put your hands upon me, oh Saint! Rest them on my shoulders. Put them on my cheeks. And whisper sweet words of holiness, encouraging me to work harder, strive further, go boldly where I have never dared to venture: to the divine feet of our very Father. To walk the path that he created for me.

Oh, Saint Benedict! My sweet Saint Benedict, your rule is hard, and yet you, as a man were patient. Your words were spoken with love. Banish me not, oh Saint, from your gentle hands. Please guide me, Saint Benedict, to the words of the Lord, that I may, forever after, be able to sing his praise to the highest. My teacher, my guide, my sweet, sweet Saint Benedict, you banished all thoughts of lust, greed, gluttony, and sin from your mind.

You yet speak to me, call to me, whisper to me sweetly, “No, Tiffany. Do not sin. For don’t you know that the Lord knows what is good for you? Take my hand, that you may live a proper life, the life of a lady. The life of the Lord.”

“But who is the Lord?” I ask, “And how does he know me? Poor, little me, who is but one small voice in this world? And how does he hear me?”

“Child,” you say, “God has given you the gift of WORDS. Do not condemn him with sin, for he hears you. He sees you. He knows you.” Gently, you scold me, “He built you, did he not? In your mother’s womb? Surely, he knows you! And I know you, for I have been watching, waiting for this day to come, that I might speak to you, and make the words of the Lord more clear.”

Make them clear from me, oh Saint Benedict. Make my words known to the Lord, and His known to me. I long for spiritual drink, oh Saint. Tell me of times long ago, when Jesus roamed the land. Tell me of stories long since past in your elegant tongue, that I might see, experience, the true light of the Lord.

My Saint, sweet Saint, you are humble, yet you are reverent in the eyes of the Lord. My Saint, precious, precious Benedict: make me more like you! Teach me to be more honest, and less sinful.

For you, Saint Benedict, are a great speaker. Truly, as the Lord made himself known to you, pray for me. Ask him, oh Saint, to make himself known as much to me as he was to you. Let me know my Lord! Your gift is my gift. Please, help me to make myself more clean in his light. Surely, my stains only become more visible in his brilliance. Please, Saint, I beg of you, assist me to live a life of grace, and forsake all vice which comes my way. Lead me to a life of peace and solace. Let me live more like you.

Sincerely,
Tiffany
 
2:26pm, Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
(7/28/2010)

Dear God,

I come to you in a veil of tears. I have sinned and am ashamed of who I am. You dry my tears, and embrace me. Smiling, you hold me, and in a tender, sweet voice, the voice of my Father, you say, “Tomorrow’s another day. Sleep, my little one, sleep. I shall make it right.”

You know that I am not perfect. You know that, no matter how hard I try, I can never be like you. I try to express this, but it’s difficult. I do not always have the proper words to say, “I’m sorry,” nor do I always understand why you do what you do, or why you have the laws that you have.

But you are not angry. You say softly, murmuring love letters in my ear, “My child, it is your nature to push the boundaries. You are curious, and you want to see how far you can go. It is how I have made you. You are adventurous. But understand, my child, that you must follow my commandments. It is for your safety. After all, as it is with most children, you do not always understand what is good for you.”

Constantly, everyday, I fall short of your grace, oh Lord. I try and try and try, but I could never be as good as you. Not nearly as perfect. But you lift me up and stare at me with a smile. You laugh softly, and say, “My child, you are the love of my life! Filled to the point of over-flowing with love, am I for you! No, you are not perfect, but you are amazing to me! I delight in everything you do right, and I know that it is your very nature to make mistakes. Forgiving, am I to you, for if you come to Me, I can make it right.”

Everyday, I choose actions that disgrace me. Everyday, I choose a life that would hurt myself and others, and yet, you speak soothingly in my ear as you clean my wounds, “There. All better. Now, you know not to do this next time, don’t you?” Your words are scolding, but gentle, and kind. I could have no other God but you. It is you who give me the reason to exist.

Sometimes, I wonder why I get hurt. I wonder why people can be so cruel. You sigh, and say, “Child of mine, life is not always fair. My other children do not like you, but you must remember that you were not the first to be persecuted. My Son, Jesus, was nailed to the cross. He was in great pain, when he died. However, he was persecuted for a purpose, and when that purpose was fulfilled, he breathed fresh life into you. Do you not know that I would not allow this to happen without reason? It makes you stronger, and it shows that, even in this painful time, if you do my will, I will make you strong. It shows you to have faith in me, because I will only give you as much as you can handle. My darling, it shows what a good person you are.”

There are many times when I feel that I can’t go on another step, that I am alone. But you are the voice that whispers in my ear, “Do not give up, my little one! One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. You’re not alone! I am here, and I love you!”

My Lord, there are so many ways you show me your love. So many chances you give me. It is amazing that you have so much grace when I have so little. So much do I do wrong, and yet, you are so patient with me, always smiling and waiting for me to come home.

So, here and now, I surrender myself to you. For to do so is to bathe in your love and be made clean.

Wash me with your love, Lord, and teach me to follow Thy commandments. Make me a follower of your light, and let me not stray from Thy path again.

Bathe me in the light of your grace, and teach me to glorify you, so that I may praise all that is good in you, shout out your name to the masses, and testify that Jesus is Lord.

I love you, God. With all my heart. For you are truly my father, and how could a father not love his baby girl?

Sincerely,
Tiffany
This is so gorgeous! I feel exactly the same about God, it’s wonderful.
 
God became my father when my father refused to be one.
Oh my God :confused:

I can’t believe it because it’s exactly the same story as me! 😦

My father didn’t love/want me, then God has adopted me. And he’s the best father in the existence. My one and only father. I always reffer to God as : daddy.
 
Oh my God :confused:

I can’t believe it because it’s exactly the same story as me! 😦

My father didn’t love/want me, then God has adopted me. And he’s the best father in the existence. My one and only father. I always reffer to God as : daddy.
My father loved me, but he didn’t want to act like a father. He liked to blame things on me that were accidents, or his fault. He was also abusive. When he didn’t get his way and could not do this to me, he’d go running to his mother, and she would verbally abuse me in public. My father is God. If my father refuses to be one, that’s between him and his maker. It’s a great comfort knowing that when he dies, he will be held accountable for every action he’s taken against me. The same goes for my grandmother, my aunt, my cousin (her son), my dad’s wife, and everybody else responsible.
 
2:26pm, Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
(7/28/2010)

Dear God,

I come to you in a veil of tears. I have sinned and am ashamed of who I am. You dry my tears, and embrace me. Smiling, you hold me, and in a tender, sweet voice, the voice of my Father, you say, “Tomorrow’s another day. Sleep, my little one, sleep. I shall make it right.”

You know that I am not perfect. You know that, no matter how hard I try, I can never be like you. I try to express this, but it’s difficult. I do not always have the proper words to say, “I’m sorry,” nor do I always understand why you do what you do, or why you have the laws that you have.

But you are not angry. You say softly, murmuring love letters in my ear, “My child, it is your nature to push the boundaries. You are curious, and you want to see how far you can go. It is how I have made you. You are adventurous. But understand, my child, that you must follow my commandments. It is for your safety. After all, as it is with most children, you do not always understand what is good for you.”

Constantly, everyday, I fall short of your grace, oh Lord. I try and try and try, but I could never be as good as you. Not nearly as perfect. But you lift me up and stare at me with a smile. You laugh softly, and say, “My child, you are the love of my life! Filled to the point of over-flowing with love, am I for you! No, you are not perfect, but you are amazing to me! I delight in everything you do right, and I know that it is your very nature to make mistakes. Forgiving, am I to you, for if you come to Me, I can make it right.”

Everyday, I choose actions that disgrace me. Everyday, I choose a life that would hurt myself and others, and yet, you speak soothingly in my ear as you clean my wounds, “There. All better. Now, you know not to do this next time, don’t you?” Your words are scolding, but gentle, and kind. I could have no other God but you. It is you who give me the reason to exist.

Sometimes, I wonder why I get hurt. I wonder why people can be so cruel. You sigh, and say, “Child of mine, life is not always fair. My other children do not like you, but you must remember that you were not the first to be persecuted. My Son, Jesus, was nailed to the cross. He was in great pain, when he died. However, he was persecuted for a purpose, and when that purpose was fulfilled, he breathed fresh life into you. Do you not know that I would not allow this to happen without reason? It makes you stronger, and it shows that, even in this painful time, if you do my will, I will make you strong. It shows you to have faith in me, because I will only give you as much as you can handle. My darling, it shows what a good person you are.”

There are many times when I feel that I can’t go on another step, that I am alone. But you are the voice that whispers in my ear, “Do not give up, my little one! One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. You’re not alone! I am here, and I love you!”

My Lord, there are so many ways you show me your love. So many chances you give me. It is amazing that you have so much grace when I have so little. So much do I do wrong, and yet, you are so patient with me, always smiling and waiting for me to come home.

So, here and now, I surrender myself to you. For to do so is to bathe in your love and be made clean.

Wash me with your love, Lord, and teach me to follow Thy commandments. Make me a follower of your light, and let me not stray from Thy path again.

Bathe me in the light of your grace, and teach me to glorify you, so that I may praise all that is good in you, shout out your name to the masses, and testify that Jesus is Lord.

I love you, God. With all my heart. For you are truly my father, and how could a father not love his baby girl?

Sincerely,
Tiffany
Hi Tiffany, I feel your pain. I can identify with you about sin. I’m in a friendship with a guy who is in love with me but I’m not with him, and I tell him this. I enjoy his companionship as he’s filling a need in me so I’m not lonely, but at the same time he is needy and wants to see me every day. I let him be affectionate to me just so he won’t leave, and I don’t like it. I feel like I’m sinning by stringing him along like this, but it is hard to tell him I don’t want to see him.

Anyway, thanks for sharing. It was beautifully written. I’ll say that prayer.
 
My father loved me, but he didn’t want to act like a father. He liked to blame things on me that were accidents, or his fault. He was also abusive. When he didn’t get his way and could not do this to me, he’d go running to his mother, and she would verbally abuse me in public. My father is God. If my father refuses to be one, that’s between him and his maker. It’s a great comfort knowing that when he dies, he will be held accountable for every action he’s taken against me. The same goes for my grandmother, my aunt, my cousin (her son), my dad’s wife, and everybody else responsible.
Tiffany, try not to find comfort in knowing that your relatives will have to answer for their actions against you. Instead, pray that they’ll come to understand how hurtful they are being, and make amends. You and they will find real joy in their repentance.
 
I know that I shouldn’t feel that way. It’s just the pain that they’ve caused, and the fact I can’t trust them.
 
I know that I shouldn’t feel that way. It’s just the pain that they’ve caused, and the fact I can’t trust them.
Forgive them and pray for them. They are hurting themselves more than you. They just don’t know it. That doesn’t mean you should give them your full trust. It does mean that you should be gentle in your talk, but careful in what you say. Give your pain to the Lord. He’ll use it for some good. Maybe even in changing your relatives’ attitude towards you.
 
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