The Benediction of the Damned

If the world calls us damned, then let this be our blessing — a letter from Fayetteville to Heaven, and to all who still dare to believe.

Dear Father,

I have been seeing You nearly everywhere I look now. Take today, for example — a man at the gym was wearing a shirt with Your name on it: “Yeshua, Name Above All Names.” Others walk around with t-shirts that say Child of God. I admit, it is pretty cool to see. I only hope that those who wear such words understand the message they proclaim — that they know You. Otherwise, it would be just fashion, a fad, or worse, a lie.

I admit to You that life is hard, emotions are tough, and still, after all these years on this earth, I flail and fail. I want to portray myself as a victor, but the truth is I am more like a merchant of fine pearls. I found one of incalculable worth and sold everything I had to obtain it without a second thought. That is the kind of fool I am — but You knew that before You called my name. Having traded it all away for the incalculable worth of that single pearl of great value, I can confidently say: it was worth it.

On Trading the Present for Eternity

Cashing in on the now for tomorrow — that is what walking with You feels like to me. I think of all those who do not know You and wonder: why spend the entirety of their allotment — their life — on only the present? It makes no sense to me, Father. I have cashed in the now for eternity, and have never been more blessed.

My view of life is inverted compared to those I encounter. My life begins at You; everything before that moment was worth the cost, if only to know You more. I would give the world for You. I have already sworn my flesh to You, and daily I pray that You give me strength to continue choosing You.

Confession and Dependence

I confess here and now that I know I do not have it in me beyond this moment — this single breath where You allow me to choose You again. I live in these suspended moments, knowing my sufficiency is entirely Yours. I admit it’s hard, Lord. I find myself, like now, with tears threatening to wash over the retaining walls of my eyelids — and I let them. Weeping with You is worth it.

Alienation and Being Known

I feel like an alien walking through this life. I have not felt seen in so long that the concept itself feels foreign. One person thinks I am a son, another a man, this one a woman, that one a stud — none see what You do. Yet I feel known by You. I need not explain myself, for You knit me together in my mother’s womb. There is no need to worry; my freakish self is entirely seen by You.

Loneliness and Offering

I am lonely, Lord. My flesh craves touch — tender, human, real. I long to be seen, to be fully known, and for the day when I no longer need to defend my heart. I know that day draws nearer, and I wait for it with all that I am.

I feel broken down, like a ghost walking among the living. Even my writing, Lord — it is seen and sometimes read, but You are the One I write it for. I am a chalice linked to Your ever-flowing fountain, poured out as a drink offering before Your altar. I thank You, even as I diminish and You increase.

Closing Benediction

Now my cheeks are wet with today’s tears, and I know You knew — for You are looking out through me, seeing as I type behind my eyes. Even though I feel lonely at times, I battle that lie with Truth: I am never alone. You are with me — always, even to the end of the age. I rest in Your embrace, even here, even now.

I love You, because You first loved me.

I await You, with eager anticipation.

I cry out for You — Yeshua, Name Above All Names.

Be glorified.

Amen,

Dust

I wrote a poem that went along with this as well, please feel free to check it here. It’s on medium also.