I hate you.
The words have become comfortable, reflexive. They are a
nearly involuntary reaction to myself when I act in a way I am ashamed of-- when
I fail to uphold my responsibilities, when I mess up, when I hurt the people I
love or ruin something I care about. I am a disgrace, a failure. She knows it,
with her biting words. He knows it, with his sad silence. I am not nearly the
woman I thought I would be at twenty years old.
I hate you.
I don’t really
believe those words. I will not end this life. I love the people I have been
blessed with, the world I have to explore, the grace that God has shown me. I
rejoice in the breathlessness of dance and the freedom of music. I could not
end my stewardship of the joy and hope God has given me.
And I hate you.
The words don’t mean anything, really. They’re just a name
for my numbness, the dissonance between my love of life and the endless times I
have failed. A title for the knife I see in my mind’s eye, thrust through my
heart every time I lose something precious.
But He loves me.
These words are an
effort, a tired cliché that I can’t be bothered to rejoice in. They are a
small, desperate cry when I am crushingly sad. I push them aside, cynically,
sarcastically. I am still a failure.
He loves me.
This is not a joke,
or an empty comfort. I remember— I am a child of the most high God. He will
never leave me or forsake me; He has forgiven my every foolish misstep, every willful
crime, every careless word . The God of the universe, the source and essence of all truth, goodness,
and beauty— he became a man and took our sin- my sin- upon himself.
He loves me!
I can hardly believe these words. They have been in my heart since before I can remember, a constant
assurance that my Maker will always be Father, Savior, and Friend. I want to
shout it from the rooftops! How can I be afraid, how can I be sad, when He is
so good? How can any of the people around me stand to walk as though the world
is going to crush them to death?
Oh. Because we hate. We hate the darkness within ourselves,
the ugliness that pervades our streets and the numbness that covers our days.
But He loves us. And that love is worth living for.
