Hand Written Letter

Part 5: The Star

Posted: Thursday, May 29th, 2014
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About Letters Never Sent Series

A collection of never-sent, personal responses to real people in Martha's life, profound events and little encounters alike.


You want me for your counselor. Beg me to look deep and give you what my inner eyes see. We walk and talk.

You believe in Him in me . . . ask for all.

But I am disturbed, unquiet about you. “What is this disharmony, Lord? Though I love her, I am repulsed.”

Weeks I spent in prayer, waiting for the wisdom He promised. The hearing and sorting took so much time. I listened to Him, but also to words you said and didn’t say . . . for He reminded me. Now I know . . . and wonder: Can I really help you? Can I even walk with you in oneness?

For you are not fully His.

It surprises me because you are so certain that no one else can be as given as you . . .
and I believed you. But you love your pleasure more than His. You want relief from the pain of unfilled longing. I wonder if you would tolerate the intense pain of naked repentance, the agony of killing obedience.

You ask for help. Are you sure you want your life’s moorings shaken? I see a gap between you and utter reality . . . actually a chasm. I’m not impressed with how you know Him, serve Him. Since others are, I feel ashamed to think such.

Sensuality, carnality, flesh . . .
I smell them.

I had to get away from your impressive perfume and now I inhale the nauseous fumes of prettied Self. The myrrhed fragrance of His purity does not waft.

I almost wish you hadn’t asked. I would have never listened to His speaking with such intensity.  When once I heard there was no going back to pretended unity. But beyond His wisdom, behind His words, I heard His tone. Were I to hear that tone toward me
I would fall to the ground writhing . . .

He is not pleased with you.

Love is not in question but His wishes are not granted. His way is not followed. His treasure not valued. His Word read but not heard.

So He is not happy with you, dear, oh, not happy. Will you “have it” all now for a breath, a single sigh? Or will you “have it” then for endless eternities? You can’t have both. No one ever has . . . including Him-who-didn’t-need-to-die.

Choose . . .

Copyright © 1985 Martha Kilpatrick, Letters Never Sent

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