I don’t think I ever met an angel in human form until I met you this week. Like the Bible said The Word is to us, you were a lamp to my feet. I just remember…you talking to me…and I remember, just crying. Dear Martha, wherever you are…wherever you go…thank you…for living. Thank you for the very moment you sat and you laughed with me. Thank you for your honesty, for telling me to loosen up, and telling me to stop taking life so seriously. I’ll never forget what you told me. You said…you were getting old…that you couldn’t believe you waited until you were dying to learn how to finally start living. See, in just a few moments, Martha…you showed me everything that I was lying to everyone else, but still longing to be. My dear Martha…you showed me why it is ABSOLUTELY necessary for me to no longer be in bondage to my flaws…but to live…and live freely.
I sent you an email Martha. And I sent it, hoping you’ll respond and mentor me. I typed I needed you Martha…because even while you’re growing old with wisdom…you’re everything I wanna be. Fierce. Bold. Sassy. Free. Wherever you are Martha, maybe God brought an angel in human form to my presence…because you are ME.
Martha, this is my prayer…and I know…I’m praying this selfishly. But, Martha…don’t leave me. Not yet. Because I am you. And you are me. And I need a woman like you on this earth…to know exactly who I’m supposed to be. Perhaps, Martha…I can never aspire to be you. Because you’d never aspire to be me. Truth is, maybe you have something I’ll never be. But, I thank you for being Martha, for being a Mom, for being a friend, for being everything you were to me, sitting beside me.
Martha, you showed me my dreams. I used to dream. And somewhere along the way Martha…I think I stopped dreaming. I lost focus…and somehow just no longer felt good enough. I no longer felt full…I felt empty. Trudging through days busy, coming home to someone to love me….Martha, I gave up on me. I stopped being the best me I could be…but you showed me who I could be. Martha, you showed me my dreams.
Dear Martha, thank you. I won’t stop dreaming. And I dare not stop…being me.
Dear Martha, wherever you venture, thank you for showing me possibilities.