an open letter to a friend

I struggle immensely with the idea of such a small percentage of God's created people being "allowed" into heaven, with the rest "condemned" forever. It has never ... and will never ... sit well with my soul. I simply have to trust that God's plan is for our best and that God does know what God is doing ... and that perhaps someday I will know fully, but for now I see but a poor reflection. I do find that I cannot teach/preach/share, etc. the theology and dogmatic, traditional, fundamental ideas that were imparted to me. They have never brought life to me, have never felt like good news to me, and actually do not ring fully true to me. I do hope this doesn't scare you ... at least not as much as it does some of my relatives! ... but I cannot be "silent about things that matter" to me anymore (as Martin Luther King, Jr. said).

You might wonder why you are the recipient of my thoughts. Quite frankly, I do too! Perhaps you are safe so many miles away.?. I think it is because of something you said to me (or at least the way I thought I heard it!) many years ago when I was beginning to "grow up" to my questions and look my doubts straight in the eye. I thought you said that you weren't convinced that Jesus was the only path leading to God. It could have been what I wanted to hear ... I would never want to quote you incorrectly.

I do believe that Jesus' WAY is the way to freedom, peace, and an abundant life, but I am unsure that this "ticket" that one receives when saying the "sinner's prayer" is all there is to it. What I understand is that in mainstream Christianity we are taught that if we don't have that ticket, there is nothing but torment for us. I also believe that people, in the name of other religions, follow Jesus' ways, perhaps without ever uttering his name.

I am somewhat bothered about the way I was spoon-fed beliefs, and wasn't encouraged to ask questions and listen to the Holy Spirit myself. At the same time, I am filled with hope that I know that I know God does love the world, that God is full of grace and his mercies are endless. If they are endless, that says to me that there is hope for everyone to be in God's presence forever.

Anyway ... I always wanted to discuss this at length with you and [your husband]. Maybe because I didn't get, or take,the opportunity with [your husband] I feel a certain urgency to converse with you about this. Please feel no pressure!! I feel like I have opened the floodgates ... and if you don't want to bob along with me it is no problem. I also recognize that this can be a difficult conversation via e-mail.

So ... there's a pink tooth brush in my bathroom

So ... there's a pink toothbrush in my bathroom ... which can mean only one thing. The pink toothbrush means that my Jess is home, be it for an evening, a weekend, a break, a summer.

I suppose it could also mean that she was home, but left it here. Then I am reminded that her visit was nice ... as always, and hope that she has a spare.

I am reminded what an incredible force she is in my life, the fact that the mere sight of her toothbrush thrusts such glee into my spirit. Not much in my life gives me more instant joy than this pink toothbrush.

I am reminded that, even at almost 20 years of age, she still likes hot pink.

I am reminded that, at age 3 she talked her daddy and me into laying pink carpet in her room. She was insistent that it matched her wall paper ... which it did.

I am reminded that the little thrill I get when I stumble to the bathroom early morning and see that flash of pink means that I love her ... and I like her ... and I appreciate her presence in my home.

I am reminded that, despite her busy life, her full social calendar and her many interests & projects, she takes time to be with me, with her family. She doesn't have to.

I am reminded, most of all, that when her pink toothbrush is here ... I can often find her on a couch or on Spencer's bed, curled up looking angelic and peaceful. I take some of the time I have with her to watch her sleep. Only a mother could really understand the rush of emotions a few minutes of that can bring. I hardly do myself.

It is bitter sweet to see the beautiful woman she has grown up to be. The sweet is seeing the woman who does not compromise her values, who resets her aspirations and goals as she discovers new things about herself and her world, the woman who is growing more and more comfortable with her own body, her sexuality, her sensuality, her creativity, her passions, her abilities, her God, and her worth; the bitter is knowing that I will probably not see that toothbrush in my bathroom on a regular basis for too much longer, as the woman she is will not be easily satisfied without venturing ... and without adventure.



Jessica,
I love your heart.
I love your smile.
I love your laugh.
I love your ways.



I love your humbleness in the midst of your confidence.
I love your freshness that you bring into a room unknowingly.
I love your softness and your femininity ... without trying, you are so beautiful.
I love your gentle way with those more feeble, more advanced in years, less advanced in years or of simple mind.
I love your empathy, your sympathy, your desire and ability to understand those different than you.
I love your simplicity ... alongside the complexities that make you who you are.
I love your spunk, your passion, your righteous anger at injustices. I love your creativity when seeking a solution, out of the box.
I love your future mate because I know that this mate will be, above all else, a good person, and will treat you with dignity and respect.
I love your future children, whether biological, adopted, or shared ... they will know they are loved by their maker and will feel terrific about who they are with your guidance.
I love your future care for me when I am unable to care for myself.

I hope my toothbrush will be welcome in your bathroom in the years to come. Yours is always and forever welcome here.

I love you.
Mom