An Easter Letter.

I think I’m an over-thinker. I think a lot. I ponder upon things that beyond everyone’s understanding. I think a lot until my brain hurt. I ponder upon things too much until my heart aches - either when I get into the conclusion, or when I reach nothingness. 

It’s pretty bizarre up there. Being inartistic, without much talent to offer, I’m not capable of painting the things in my head. I’m sorry folks, I wish I could bring you into it (if only you want to). I’ll let you see the endless business of weighing the wrong and the right. Or the unruly flow of uncertainty that coils up every slope in my head. Complicated, eh? I don’t expect you to fathom, because I scarcely do myself.

Today, when I was at the church, I thought about hell. About the reason why people want to stay away from it. I learned from a friend not long ago that hell is a place without the presence of God. It may sound simple at first. A place without the presence of God. So, I try to work the logic in my head. “without the presence of God” would mean you are no longer entitled for reconciliation. You’ll lose the special bond that you have with him. You’ll be deprived from your right to pray. Imagine praying without the peace in your heart. Praying a prayer that won’t be answered, because God is no longer there. The feeling of hollowness, of being alone. Cold, like when you’re out during winter night, where you walk alone along the lonely street. Where winter chill’s stuffing your breath, and it’s iciness creeps into your bones. And you pray for sun, for light, and for hope to be loved again. But of no avail, because you lose that special bond with Him, the right of calling Him Abba.

Surely, a lot of people are picturing hell as a scorching place with blazing fire, where thousand suns continue to burn every single thing in it. Maybe it’s something like in dessert. Hot and waterless.

But it’s the none-presence of God that dreads me. Living eternally in darkness, without the light of hope, neither the warmth of love. And you’re all alone. It’s worst than being dead. You’re left to live regretting your own existence every moment to infinity.

Lord,

Teach me to cherish this special bond that I have with You.

And if by loving we rekindle Your presence among us, just like more than 2000 years ago, I pray that You grant us with a big heart to humbly love one another.

Make me worthy to be invited to the banquet, where You, and us the lowly being, at table and sat down.

Amen.

-Miss B-