Dear Friends,

I don't deserve you. Each day, I wonder what I could have possibly done to earn your friendship, and I can never reach a satisfactory answer. You are supportive, attentive, and in every way wonderful. And you seem to think I deserve your friendship, despite my doubts on that score.

Maybe this is a slight hint of the love we have from Christ. I don't deserve his love, but he really, really wants to give it to me. To all of us. Deep, true love isn't our love for God, but his love for us, sacrificial love with no reason to expect an equal return. He meets us halfway and, when we aren't there, he keeps going the whole way until he reaches us where we are.

Thanks for loving me so much I can start to understand, however slightly, the love of Christ.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear That Sense of Rightness and Justice in This World,

Just want to say thanks. Overall, the world does not meet any of our standards for perfection, to the point that many of us give up on the hope that there must be something better out there. But sometimes, you show your face again, just for a moment, just a small glimpse, and remind those of us still watching and waiting for Better that it really does exist and is worth living for.

When two puzzle pieces finally admit they fit together perfectly, when after months of prayer I get to see two of my favorite people come together, it's nothing short of a relief. The Hebrew word shalom means peace, perfection, unity, and completion, the resolving major chord at the end of a cacophonous symphony. If such a small-scale event can bring such relief, I can only imagine what it will be like when you finally reclaim all of creation. No more pain, no more hurricanes, no more loneliness or barriers to love. May we all live and work and hope for the Better that lies beneath the surface.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear God,

You positively spoil me, you know that?

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear 30-Second Segment of a Conversation on Monday,

For how brief you were, you made me sad and got me thinking for the subsequent 48 hours. Change, relocation, and answers to prayer: all of this was wrapped up in a short side comment as part of a larger conversation. I have what I want, and you, oh short little sentence, informed me that an old, fervent prayer for someone else has been answered. And even as I thank God for that answer, I'm realizing that I have to come to grips with the fact that just because God answers prayers we make for someone else, that doesn't necessarily mean we ourselves get to benefit from those blessings.

You showed me that God is good, and that I still have a lot of growing up to do.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Landlord, Landlady, God, and Timing,

Thank you so much for deciding to let me stay here. I didn't want to sound petulant and childish, but the idea of moving this fall—for the fifth time in six years—made me want to cry. It, in fact, did make me cry. Especially after seeing some of the apartments available elsewhere in the city within this price range, I couldn't bear the idea of leaving my garret, this neighborhood, or your family. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Antonio Lotti,

Thank you for this rich, liturgical composition.




Crucifixus pro nobis, et passus, et sepultus est. Laus Deo.

Amen.

Dear Large Corporation That Took Two Months to Interview Me and Lead Me On,

Thanks for hiring me. I hope I like you as much as I'll like the paycheck.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Pancakes,

Thank you for being a tasty way to use up some old milk and butter last night after the Ash Wednesday service.

Of course, I'm not sure how thankful I should be that you nearly became ashes, yourselves. Why did you have to nearly burn? Why did you have to fill the entire apartment with smoke so that the alarms went off and brought my landlord upstairs to make sure his house wasn't burning down around him?

I get it. You're in cahoots with God. Shame on me for being ashamed of the ashes on my forehead from the Ash Wednesday service and being glad I hadn't seen anyone on the way into my apartment. Setting off the smoke alarms was just your little way of teaching me humility, wasn't it, Pancakes?

Well, it worked. And you were delicious, which more than made up for trouble.

Hug & kisses,
B

Dear God,

Thanks.
(For everything.)

Hugs & kisses,
B