Letters to Levi: A Beginnng

Is it possible that true love exists? The kind of love that is emulated in God's, the kind that never dies, never fades away, never grows cold to an end? A love that can be hurt, betrayed, broken, rejected, and abandoned but yet somehow emulates God's endless forgiveness and never gives up? For whatever reasons may be firmly rooted in your mind, you left me sweet Levi, and if I were to focus on your love alone I would despair that true love exists. So many hurts over the past five months and five days. I know you did not intend to bring me hurt, but you did, and I thought my heart would close on you like it did on Andrea when she abandoned me for the final time. I could not cling to God until I had let go of my love for her in my heart. But when you left me, cling to God is exactly what I did. It was turbulent at first, confusing and desperate, and I know that I have failed many times this semester thanks to the never-tiring work of my great adversary the Devil. But it was a little after the service I posted about here last, when I think I came to the point where if God took my love for you away it would be okay. I would grieve the loss, much like the death of a beloved, but I would be okay somehow. Ultimately, my existence cannot be centered around the people in my life but about glorifying God. This truth was learned after my car wreck on July 4th, 2011 and tested during the dark final semester you left me. I knew God would test it, and even in boundless pain and panic, I knew I wasn't going to fail God in the same way. In a way, being stronger was a lot more painful. To push yourself to go to class, to smile, to keep wiping away the tears, but more than that - the constant, incessant prayers to God all day long to keep any stray root of bitterness or despair from finding soil. In the end, when I was finally able to come to the place where I could give you up forever and it just be me and God, God wrapped me in great warmth. My body still goes cold with shock when the pain hits, the stunning blows from reality. I guess in my head even today, you have not really left me. Even with all the steps you have taken to move on, in my head, you still love me because in my heart, I still love you. But the coldness doesn't permeate my soul. It takes captive my body, but God gives my spirit strength. Strength to pray for you each day. Strength to walk across the stage at graduation. Not too long ago, Noelle had no strength. She passed out, multiple times, sought alcohol, cut herself, vomited. Although I haven't been able to be completely victorious in every moment of the hundred days, there is a different Noelle and I am so grateful for the change that God has been able to make in my life. Part of it is due to other people, but the biggest part is due to you. Thank you, Levi, for loving me when I was a mess and helping me find my strength in God. I can never repay you that debt.
Lately, sitting on the couch in the dark, trying to contemplate the future, the quiet, desperate question seeks the heavens. What now, God? And he keeps reminding me of that night on Grand Boulevarde by the church, your tears in the dark, the very last time you held me. "Can we just write letters?" you pleaded. Agh, I recall your letters, your posts on the blog. So eloquent, so blissful, so exquisite. You never wrote me another letter, and even though I tried, my driving away in frustration and anger spoiled the later effort to do as you asked. The regret is bitter yet, sharp still. I make so many mistakes.
But to make mistakes is to learn. "Success teaches you nothing, mistakes everything," someone once said. God has had more classroom access in my heart and mind this semester than in a very long time. Back to the drawing board. Back to analyzing my failures, repenting, accepting His forgiveness, and embarking on a sanctified turn. It's such hard work. I have so many areas in which to grow, but the key to them all is like I posted before. That fire.
I was talking to my mom yesterday about how forgiving you for Anna at this point isn't even an issue in my mind. I pray for you and her, and I do it with sincerty. My family is fiercely loyal and maybe even devicively so, but it was you who taught me how to accept people's differences without hatred or bitterness. To just accept what you are doing, and pray about it. But more importantly, to pray for me about it. To keep my focus on me, but never cease praying for you. While I talked with my mom, the tears fell as they do every single day. But they were bittersweet tears, as I recalled a few precious memories with you. And the biggest thing in my memories is your gentleness in the way you loved me. Not any kind of gentleness, a Levi gentleness. I've never encountered anything like it.
"If I treated you the way you treated me, you'd have left a long time ago," you once said to me when we were fighting. And I knew even then that you were right. How many times have I done the unthinkable? Said the inexcusable? It was as if my lessons learned in Chicago were of no effect in my life. I am ashamed. Have long been ashamed. But oh, the way you treated me? Even now it makes my heart soften and glow. Levi's gentleness. If I did anything wrong, I surely never heard it from you. Maybe once or twice. But even then your rebuke was so gentle. Sincere, but sincerely gentle. I've never known love like that. And if I could have any change in my life, it would be to love like you loved me.
It's hard. My family doesn't treat me that way, and neither does anyone else. But I have seen it. I know what it feels like, what it looks like, what it sounds like. And each day I pray that God will break me until I have nothing left of self, of that frustration, that impatience, that selfishness, nothing left at all but His gentleness and grace. Oh, that someday you would come back and I could have the chance to love you like you loved me. Oh, what I would give for that chance.
It may never come. I have accepted that, but refuse to fulfill it. I continue to pray. And God takes me back to that night, when you said, "Write letters." And I don't know what to say. I am so afraid to hurt you, to make you disappointed or frustrated with me. Writing you is so hard, because it is an empty exercise. You don't read these letters, and you don't write back. There is nothing but emptiness at the end of them, and the grief of loss.
But I can't get away from it. So I am just going to write, and come of it what may.
I am going to call this new change in the blog LETTERS TO LEVI from now on, even though I can't bring myself to chance the actual URL name. I'll never be able to replace the binary name you put there, for it bring back such wonderful memories. Precious memories, of my precious Levi.
I want you to know I still love you, and am praying that God brings me to the place where He can bring you back, and you to the place where He can bring you back. Because I am assured in my soul that we, us, that is the union of Levi and Noelle's lives, was the will of God and still is. No one else may believe, but I do. Charity hopeth all things, endureth all things... charity never fails.