Today marked my 3rd week at BSF (Bible Study Fellowship).  I've been going every Thursday and this year, we're studying the book of John.  It's been incredible for me to receive God's Word.  It's been a long time since I have read and receive the Bible-- one and a half years to be exact.  Ever since Lingo's brain cancer reoccurred for the 2nd time and she started going downhill physically, I found myself empty and speechless before God.  It became easy to live on my own strength, until I'm brought to my knees by my sinfulness and inadequacies.  My uncontrollable anger.  This insatiable longing in life.  The hardening of my heart and the mean things that come out of my mouth.  I know I need God.

"Hiding Place"--a song by Starfield and my study of John have moved me to write this poem of love and gratitude to God, my Abba Father.  Thank you for everything.

I miss you in the rain.  It makes my heart sad and thoughts of you rushed through my mind like a movie played on fast forward.  I think about what mom said in regards to my friendship with Greta.  Mom was right.  I have been depending on Greta as if she was my older sister.  Since I lost you, I’ve been yearning for that—someone to look up to, to ask for advice and someone who will give me suggestions and tell me what to do.  That revelation made so much sense to me—it explains to me why I feel possessive toward Greta and whenever we share a special moment that was only ours, I feel so overwhelmingly happy.  When she picks me over other people or shows me more affection—that makes me happy as well.  I didn’t know this until now, but all this time, I was longing to feel what I felt when I was with you—when I was yours, your little sister, your favorite person in the world.  In your mind I was always kind, always true, always lovely and pretty.  I long to feel that level of acceptance and love again.

I lost you gradually.  When you started to lose your ability to do things, I began taking on the older sister role of caring for your physical needs.  Instead of you making things for me to eat, I started making lunch boxes for you to eat on your way to Maryland for treatment.  Instead of you running to get me a cup of water, I filled your cups and bought you juice boxes while you laid in bed.  Instead of you picking up my favorite snacks and sharing them with me, I looked for mochi ice cream in the Asian food market, smiling at the thought of the childish delight they will bring to your face.  Instead of you brushing my teeth in bed when I was immobilized by sleepiness, I wiped your face and your body with cleansing wipes so you could feel refreshed.  I loved doing those things for you; in a way, if you were never sick, I would’ve never had the opportunity to serve you in the same ways that you have served me for so many years.  You were always a giver, never good at receiving.  I served you with gladness and so much tenderness in my heart.  Every act on my part mirrored a childhood memory of you caring for me.  I missed being physical cared for by you, but I learned to be stronger and give to you as I watched you deteriorate.

The most painful part about losing you is not the absence of a physical caregiver.  The most painful part that I struggle with is the emotional bond that we shared.  Even now, a year later, this bond is strong like a thick, interlocking metal chain.  I feel this bond in my dreams, many of them were the two of us fighting against some outside force—for example, the Nazis.  In my dreams, we were alone in our endeavor to combat against a force so overwhelming—but the important thing was that we were doing it together.  I cherished my dreams of you because it’s the only place where I feel our bond as a comfort, a pleasure, a safe heaven in this alternate reality where you are alive.  It’s the only place where our bond has a physical presence—because you have a face, a body—and I have a hand to hold on to.  Some people tell me that even though you are gone, I will always have the beautiful memories we shared to accompany me for the rest of my life.  Although this statement holds as much truth as any trustworthy saying possibly can, right now the memories of you also haunt me.  The close bond we shared as sisters torments me in your absence.  The bond we shared has not be lost, but it endured death—and as a result, it produces a sadness so overpowering I dare not incur it in my mind for the fear of suffocating by grief. 

I miss being accepted by you so unconditionally.  There’s no one who has been so blinded by love as you are when it comes to accepting me.  Sure, you know of my bad temper, my impatience, my low self-esteem and my lack of perseverance.  But you still loved me and told me everyday how smart I was, how pretty I looked, how funny I was and how utterly gifted I am.  I used to think you odd for thinking so highly of me, I used to counteract your admiration with annoyance and dismiss your encouragements as nonsensical. However, after 20+ years of breathing and living these very much undeserved encouragements from you, I have become dependent on them.  I bloomed because of them.  When I felt down on myself, whether it be an ugly hair cut, a few extra pounds, a failed essay, an awkward social encounter—all I had to do was share them with you, and you would feed me your love and my soul would be full and restored.  After losing you, many days I would stare at the phone, trying to think of a person to call when I feel the crashing waves of insecurity and defeat.  The reality is that there is no one that I could call because there is no one like you.

So here I am, missing you in the rain.  My tears join rank with the tears from heaven and together, we pour out the indescribable pain of losing you.  My voice roared with the thunder to show my hurt that should blanket the whole earth but instead, it is pressed into a little ball and jammed in my heart.  I will you see in my dreams where we will be together again, side by side, until the morning light robs me of you and leaves me behind.

I wrote this letter in response to a pastor that my father did a landscaping job for. Unbelievable.

Hi Pastor X,
My name is Rebecca and I'm the daughter of Joseph ___, the landscaper you have hired to complete the landscaping job that you have hired him to do.  I am a 28 years old woman with a child, I was an elementary teacher who had experience in working in public school system of NJ; in addition, I also had experience serving in _____ church as a children's ministry program director.  Having said that, I fully understand the intricacies of working with people of different personalities and the importance of preaching the Gospel through your life actions.  The reason why I'm writing this email to you is to let you know my sadness and displeasure at the outcome of this business transaction that my father had with you and Mrs. X.  My father doesn't know of this email that I'm writing to you, but I sincerely wish to share how much it has upsetted my father after he has done this landscaping job for you.
 
I love my father dearly; he is one of the most generous and hardworking man I've ever met.  I wish you had known him better, because then  I think you would've had a different outlook when you worked with him and would've treated him with respect and thanksgiving.  I visit my parents once or twice a week with my son, and I've personally witnessed and have heard about the landscaping job that he's doing for you.  In his 18 years as a landscaper, I have never seen him so agitated and upset by how you and Mrs. X have reacted and demanded from him.  First of all, I know that he had given you numerous discounts as he usually does with pastors who serve at the church.  He has done many landscaping jobs for pastors, and every time he would tell us, "even though we're not making as much as we could, but whatever we do for these servants of God we do it for God."  Most of the time, the pastors appreciated what he had done.  However, I'm appalled to heard how Mrs. X repeatedly demanded for more landscaping work around the yard that was not agreed upon. My father shared with us that the whole time he was doing these "extra work", he was thinking that you are a servant of God so whatever extra he does for you, he's serving the Lord.  In addition, Mrs. X refused to pay the tax that was required just to save some money by paying cash, because in her own words, "she's never paid tax for the things around the house".  Furthermore, after the landscaping job was finished, Mrs. X asked the workers who worked for my dad to do additional work around the yard that was not part of the original estimate.  She also wanted the materials that was paid for by my father for your personal use. 
 
All these were things that upsetted me, especially knowing that you are a family who serves God.  I dont' know you personally so I dare not make any lofty accusations except from what I know.  I have no doubt that you have done many wonderful things for God in your church and in your life.  However, I wish to let you know that in your dealing with my father, you have discouraged him--as a servant of God, you did not show him generosity, kindness, appreciation; on the contrary, you have demanded more from him when he had already given you much, treated his workers with disrespect, and repeatedly renegate on your original contract.  My father is a humble man, he doesn't have much and he has always given others more than he receives.  I hope you can learn from this experience and remember that when you treat the least of these with kindness, you are loving the Lord. 
 
I don't have any agenda in writing this letter but to share from my heart, and I hope and pray that you and Mrs. X will continue to be a blessing to the people that God brings to you life.
 
In Christ,
Rebecca