A Bit Unlearned

I hope all is well with you.

 

I am a bit unlearned in your spiritual writing to the Lord, so I feel stuck with finishing my part, even though I am unsure about your piece. It is for the Lord, and this is how He brought me to you—in prayer.

I always wrote something meaningful about the Spirit of God. Man, too bad! But you know, it is not relevant, because I am conversing in Spirit with our dear Heavenly Father.

So I am not, nor have I ever been, alone. I have no regrets. It is nice to share this with you now. The only thing is, I keep everything. It is because they all contain writings, and every time I write to you, I feel I must edit. That is why I have so many writings.

We are sharing an insight into a beautiful realization—the one hope in Christ that we are.

I think my misspellings and punctuation are insignificant compared to the opening of the whole realm of existence. I cannot pick apart one piece, or I would lose myself, because there are so many beautiful prayers—various writings: statements of truth, verses, prayers, poems, praises, thanksgiving, understanding, knowledge, and wisdom.

Sharing a piece of this incredible journey…

From beyond death into life in Christ is so powerful, and each person has the opportunity to see it for themselves. I have been procrastinating the inevitable. Yet through all my years of prayers and writings in faith—of the glorious treasure of the Kingdom of Heaven within—I knew that in sharing with you, I was sharing with the world.

Not through you, but because of you—and you were the only person through whom that could happen, through Jesus.

I am sorry that you had to experience my inescapable pain. You were not the cause. We surely had good times, but the last three and a half years of our marriage were very difficult. I chose to close that part of myself and give it to God. I cannot carry it anymore—the pain, suffering, frustration… feeling degraded, below the bottom.

Furthermore, I am a living, breathing person, capable of love.

And I am sharing my relationship with our Father in Heaven with the world. I can do that—you know. It is mine to share, for the love of the Lord.

I was searching for an answer that I did not find, and for that reason, I realize I need to let you go. Now, what is my motive? When you fall hard, do the unthinkable, and your reward is found in sharing… I am content to be home, to care for Richard and my grandchildren.

If we end up on the street in a month—we will not. We will be forced to find an apartment. I will lose all my trees—I planted all eighteen of them. Where will I put my plants? These are the kinds of drastic measures that come with dramatic circumstances.

I have something to say and to share—and sweetheart, I said it.

I truly, honestly did it. Furthermore, I can hardly believe it myself. No one on earth could have told me yes or no—who would I have listened to? When I was called by Him, who sent me to open your eyes, “to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among those who are sanctified by faith in Me.” —Jesus Christ (Acts 26:17–18)

Some people think I should have written about the daily trauma. But for what purpose? It is deeply negative, and this book is meant to be positive—in spirit, in the Ever-Presence.

How long has it been since I told you… I love you?

November 13, 2005
Wendy Yvette Greenwell