People mostly recall the ‘first’ of things in their lives;
The first cry of your baby,
The first day of school,
The first time you met that special person,
The first fight, and how you made up
The first love.
I honestly don’t remember the first time I met You, Daddy. But I still remember how my heart leapt in joyful dancing when You said You loved me, and I am Yours, five years ago. I remember the feeling of that first love, when it seemed that nothing could stop me from loving You, nor that I would stop doing so.
I’m not saying that I don’t love You anymore, Daddy. I do. But why do I feel like dragging myself to sit with You, even for a little while, for our talk? This is You, and not a nobody that has done or had nothing to do with my entire life. Why do I have to bargain my time and energy when it comes to You, now? Would You still believe when I said I still love You?
I still have the two journals filled with our conversations. We seemed like having lots of fun things to talk about, to share. So many secrets You revealed for me, so many thoughts and dreams and wishes I offered to You. And now when I flip those pages over, I can’t remember how we could do that and I don’t know how to even begin to rekindle the dimmed fire. And it breaks my heart. And I can’t imagine how it does Yours.
Remember the conversation I had with Your guy couple of years back, Daddy, about love and commitment? That I thought commitment would be more important in a marriage because it glues the union together, even when the other ingredient is fading away? As Your guy said it, and now I can feel it myself, commitment without love sucks. I’m still going to church, You know I do. I still sing and pray to You. But that’s it. I don’t grow, I do nothing to feed my spirit, and guess whose fault is that; mine. I’m still committed to You but I just lost that fire, Lord. I’m losing that first love.
Is it wrong to whine, Lord, about losing that burning passion that I’ve always had when I was in Melbourne, throughout Winter Camps and a few months after? Sharon Jaynes, in her book, said that it is okay to tell You how I feel. And this is exactly how I feel, Daddy.
I am FRUSTRATED.
I shouldn’t be in the position where I am now. I should’ve been doing something for You already. It’s been almost one freakin’ year since I went home from that city that I’m still home-sick about, and I’ve done nothing. I want to be included in Your business, and look where I am now. What a lousy daughter I am, Daddy 🙁
I miss You so much, Daddy.
I wish I know how to handle this. Forgive me for I am not being an obedient girl. At times when the Holy Spirit reminded me to sit right back up after I turned off the light at night I just chose to ignore His gentle voice. Lucky me, He is such a gentle, modest Spirit or He would’ve pinched me or pulled my ear for not listening. Thank you for giving me the urge to write up this crappy piece full of complaints and frustrations, Lord. I really need to start writing again, and even a bad post is enough because I just forget how to release myself and pour out my heart to my brain and my fingers without worrying about what people would say about the posts.
It is said that prayer is the fastest thing on earth because it reaches You even before we say it. I guess You knew what went through my mind when I typed this post, Lord. There’s still so many things I want to write, and I feel like I’m losing my ways to do so. One step at a time, I suppose 🙂
So, this is me, Daddy. Coming back to You, begging You to show me Your love, once again.
Because I just .. miss You. So much. Very very much.