My dear friend,
You know how much I love to share my stories with you, and you know if something this big has happened, something so beautiful that it can only be from God, you know how much I’d want you to know about it too. But this time, I’m sorry, but this is one story I cannot tell. You see, I’m afraid that if I speak it out loud, it’ll lose it’s beauty.
The funny thing is that I had every intention of telling you. I entered your room, the room right next to mine, and I was absolutely thrilled to see that you were there. I began to tell you, right from the beginning, but soon after I stopped because another realization hit me. Another dimension of God’s presence became clear to me. I then told you that there’s a reason why they call Jesus the master craftsman, and that it’s no wonder that He was born to a carpenter. It was something so beautiful that it could have only been thought of by Him.
My story is one where weaknesses were made into strengths, it was a plan that took failures and made them into victories. It’s the story of two people brought together by very singular circumstances that served to grow both of them in themselves, and in their faiths. It’s the story of the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
I remember after praising Him, I was even more excited to tell you everything. I wanted you to see how blessed I was, how amazing God was. I wanted you to share with me the feeling of outrageous inadequacy – I did not deserve it. I did not deserve any of it. But it happened to me, it happened to her, and together we saw God. But then, at some point in the story, I stopped telling it. I could not physically finish the story. I paused for a long time, and I want to thank you, dear, for being so patient with me. But I realized right then that it was not a story that could be said aloud.
There are some stories that are too beautiful to share – I just never had one. But now that I do, I will cherish it for the rest of my life. It will stay close to my bosom and will never leave my lips. The life that I gained from this story will sustain me for a long time, and the lessons I learned will always lead me forward. To share it, to try to put into words what happened, to try to contain it’s significance into a to-go box of conversation… that would just ruin it. It would be like cutting out a small, 2D square from a huge cube in the hopes that you will understand that it was once 3D. It’s impossible, see.
But more than anything I want to thank you for not badgering me. Despite the fact that I simply stopped in the middle of a story, you let me continue in the most broadest terms. Telling you without telling you; you let me draw the outline without coloring anything in. I don’t believe you’ll ever understand how much that means to me, that you’ll let me hold onto this small treasure.
God bless you, my dear friend.