Father,

I have either nothing to say or too much to say.

[empty]

[sad]

[lifeless]

Winter still lingers.

Why am I in this place, Father? What do you have planned for me?

When that boy called out to me, I didn’t respond. His words didn’t affect me. But, they resounded in my head; two minutes later, they almost brought me to tears.

“You’re beautiful. I love you.”

I realized that those words hurt. His words were cheap and dirty. I hated him for saying it; I hated him for choosing to use those precious words when he didn’t even know me, when he barely looked at me and registered me in his intoxicated state.

Those words are precious to me. They should be said by people who mean it, not by some drunk boy looking for mischief on St. Patty’s weekend.

Those words can cripple me.

When you say “I love you,” do you really mean it?

When I say it, do I really mean it?

What does it even mean to love someone?

I am truly in awe of how You can handle everything. The constant heartbreak. Constant betrayal of trust, rescinding of word, hypocritical behavior. How do You not get tired?? How do You handle it??

How was Jesus able to get up everyday in the morning and dutifully walk into a place of more suffering? To go on when Judas betrayed Him? To forgive Peter when he denied Him three times?

When the people closest to Him lied through their teeth, telling Him, “I love you,” and He continued to walk faithfully beside them; how did He not break?

Our love is so flimsy compared to Yours. You are the only one I am willing to trust.

Heal my heart. If You will accept it in all its brokenness, I will give all the pieces to You.

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