Dear Loved One

Dear Loved One, There is so much I wish I had said to you when I had the chance, and so many things I would do differently if I had known I would never get to look you in the eyes again. I would tell you that I love you — more deeply than you ever realized — and that I wish saying “I love you” had been as easy as all the other things we said without thinking twice.

I wish I had written letters to you — real letters — cursive handwriting on beautiful stationery, tucked into envelopes, stamped and mailed with care. I wish your mailbox had held my words instead of bills and junk mail you sighed over. I like to imagine you would have read those letters and smiled, maybe tucked them away somewhere.

I’m not sure you would have — but I wish I had tried. Even if you didn’t smile, you would have read them and known — truly known — that you were loved by me. If I could go back, I would reach out more fearlessly, more courageously, more often. I wouldn’t have given up so quickly or backed away the moment you shut a door or ignored my words.

I wish I had been more like Jesus and less like me. More willing to step out of my comfort zone. More willing to risk having the door slammed in my face — because maybe, just maybe, you would’ve opened it instead. Jesus left the ninety-nine to go after the one, and oh, how I wish I had gone after you, too.

To sit with you. To talk with you. To love you the way He loves you. I know you’re in heaven — not because you went to church, but because you believed in Jesus long before I ever came along, long before I disrupted so much of what you knew and wanted.

I sometimes imagine what it will be like when I get up yonder. It makes me smile. I picture you jumping up from the table, running over to greet me — just like all the others we’ve let down but God lifted up and brought home. Up yonder, none of this will matter — not the regrets, not the silence, not the chances missed.

Jesus loves us more than we ever talked about. I wish we had shared conversations about His love instead of grumbling about the things that didn’t matter. I wish we had talked more. Listened more. Let bygones be bygones — just like Jesus does. He took every burden upon Himself when He died on the cross — all the things we couldn’t bear, all the things we mishandled, all the things we regret.

He did it all. And I wish I had acted more like Him and less like me when it came to loving you. I know He forgives me. I’m trying hard to forgive myself. Some days it’s easier than others. That’s why I’m writing to you now. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let worldly things replace what should’ve been “on earth as it is in heaven.” I’m sorry I didn’t do my part to be a peacemaker like Jesus.

I was so focused on keeping the peace that I let too much time pass for no good reason. I shake my head now — because I know I could have done better. And I would have, if I had tried to be more like Jesus and less like me. It’s a real good thing that Jesus is Jesus, and I sure am trying to be more like Him. I love you. Save me a seat up yonder, okay?

Love, Me