I Am Not She

Dearest Love,

Christmas is approaching.  As I journey through this season of preparing for Your humble yet glorious birth, I am reminded of the depth and power of Your love for me.  I want to try to express to You something of what my relationship with You means to me.

Life is not easy.  I am young, but I learned this lesson long ago.  So often my relationship with You suffers from shallowness of waters.  Many times, I am consumed by this world and its difficulties.  While Your love for me transcends into eternity, I myself am unable to move beyond the confines of this world.

I have said, on multiple occasions, that I cannot imagine my life without You.  I have said that all is confusing enough with You in my life.  Tonight, I question how much I have actually let You in.  I cannot deny, nor do I wish to, that every good thing in my life is a blessed gift from above, and that every good action is done only because of Your grace.  However, I wonder how much I am actually living this life without You.

In the depths of my heart, I think that I love You.  And I think that love is motivated by genuine intentions, that it is pure and selfless.  But how pure of a love can it be if I’m not allowing it to change me.  If I ignore promptings that are likely to be from You, I am no closer to You than had I never heard them.

I have learned a lot about You these past three and half years.  I do believe that You have wanted me to do so.  Somewhere along the way, or maybe this was a problem before these years started, I stopped asking to be transformed.  Many of my prayers became nothing more than thoughts directed at no one in particular.

I wanted to write a letter in which I could express to You how much I love You.  I wanted it to be filled with the beautiful language of which You are deserving.  I wanted to detail, in small ways, the joys and sorrows of this life we share together.  Instead, I am left lamenting.  The words necessary to express what I am like on the inside are not the words I long to use.

My Jesus, my sweet, loving Jesus, I am broken.  There is far too much of me, and far too little of You.  And I hear You calling Lord.  I hear the tenderness of Your beckon.  But my response is not coming easily.  My soul is nearly collapsing under the pressure of this moment.  Lord, I do not know how to say Yes.  Mary, Your Mother, my Mother … our Mother, lived so beautifully and so perfectly that for which I do long. I do. But I am not she.  I am not she…

But she will pray for me Lord.  And those who lived the faithful life before me will beg for me at the feet of Your Father.  And slowly, very slowly, my heart will change.  Do I believe that?  Will I live like I do?

I am here Lord.  My soul is fighting against the strong jaws of my flesh.  They want desperately to snap shut. To block You out. To remain the same.  They are trapped in the heavy chains of fear. And my soul is struggling. Struggling.

I need Your grace Jesus.  My Love.  I cannot ask for it enough. I cannot desire it enough.  I cannot be enough.  But Your grace is enough.  It will be enough.  It is enough.