It’s just after two in the morning and as on many occasions after working a stretch of shifts, I am fully awake with my mind unable to rest. As I readjust and try to regain some form of comfort, I find that I am drawn away to thoughts that will range from a time when I was a youth to the present—many times my thoughts will go to things that I should or need to be doing. Yet it is in these early hour restless moments that ideas and conversation form between my current state and that which I am gleaning from my Heavenly Father.
Letters to the Father was born from moments just like that—a collection of thoughts, questions, struggles, successes, and failures that I have accumulated over the years regarding my navigation of life and being a believer in Jesus Christ. It hasn’t nor will it be an easy task to comprehend His working or plan in my life. All that I know is that I want to believe and do His will. So now let the journey begin…
The written word is something given me as enjoyment and an avenue of freedom. Through it, stories are told; imaginations come alive; ideas and imprints take shape. The elements of writing seem constant as they consist of a beginning, a middle, and an ending: conflicts arise leading to a climax, and an ultimate resolution for better or worse (such is life). Whether the mundane or extraordinary was taking place, I could capture it in words and catalog it for future providence.
For me, my journey began with journaling from a money ledger that I used as a teenager to keep track of accounts from area lawns that I mowed or odd jobs that I performed during the summer months. The money portions transformed as I often found myself writing poems, happenings of life to an adolescent, or thoughts expressed to my Creator. Some of my writing experienced in these times makes me question what I was thinking to have even put those words to paper; while many other I wonder where the insight came from. Many of the entries are basic; some offer a good laugh while others are tearfully recounted.
Growing up the youngest of four children, I was outgoing but never boisterous in my dealings with others. I was more of a dreamer and liked to spend time thinking of the possibilities for the future. I grew up with Christian background but didn’t give much thought to the prospect of eternity. I wanted to think of grandeur of life—fame and fortune—and how to obtain it (thus the money ledger).
What I haven’t told of yet is my Christian background. I come from a family that has had Christian warriors on both sides. My grandmothers were instrumental in the influence of not only my parents but myself. Both were very different but had grown in their resolve to follow Jesus through life’s rearing and circumstances. They were very genuine in their love for the Lord. While one would express her love more through song and music, the other could preach from the Word. For a time, my immediate family seemed to be heavily involved in church. I don’t recall when it happened, but before I was too far along in my childhood schooling, we had ceased attending. At times we ventured to area churches, but nothing lasting. I would attend on occasion with my grandmothers as time was spent with them. Even then my understanding of the institution was flawed.
There were so many aspects that I was not aware of: it was not that I first loved Him, but He loved me: He came to seek and save the lost. I can recall periods of wanting to do those things that were not beneficial to who I really am or who I was to become. During those activities I would get the feeling of such discomfort that I would have to abandon the exploit altogether. I didn’t understand then what I am positive of now: “I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. As a shepherd looks after his scattered flock when he is with them, so will I look after my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and darkness (Ezekiel 34-11:12).”

Here is an excerpt from an early journal entry as a teenager:

Unaware

You know where I’m at
You see what I do
You look inside of me
At a heart that is untrue
I look to the world
I look for a word
I yell at the top of my voice
For a chance I will be heard
If not for a prayer
Where would I be
I was oblivious to the fact
That You were waiting on me
You knocked at the door
I fell at Your feet
We talk to each other
Unaware of a time
When we will meet
I have settled down
And yet since grown
I move everyday
Toward a life on my own
I will remember the aspects of my life
I will remember the struggles
They will not be forgot
I will remember Your promises
To the questions
I so often sought

I penned these words shortly after accepting the gift of salvation: knowing that every line holds a significant meaning and portion of coming to the realization that God has been merging His path with my own. He knew exactly where I was in life and the struggles that were contending for my attention. His promises have been from the beginning and will endure to the end.