Letter to My Burden

Dear X,

It's been years since we've been in contact. I still think of you often, but likely not in the way you'd assume. I don't hate you. I don't yearn for your approval. I fear for your soul. I pray for you often.

I can only guess what life was like in your house when you were a kid. I would guess, though, that perhaps you never were enough in your earthly father's eyes. Was it hard to gain his approval, maybe even his attention? Was it hard to every do it "right enough"? I fear you tried to live to a measuring stick on which only the super-human could even register, let alone measure up.

Was it hard being the youngest? Everyone else had more experience, would develop capabilities before you, and you were the one who was behind. With gaining accolades being so important, did it seem impossible to find something to achieve that someone hadn't done before? Something that was your very own, worthy of approval? The idea of love gets pretty muddled when it's mixed with accomplishments, when much needed attention is based on what you do, rather than who you are.

You did become Someone, though, didn't you? There are news articles and photographs and quotes and Internet sites that prove that. Is it enough? I'd guess not. There's always something else, eh? A project to complete, a VIP to please, financial goals to meet, growth to be shown, innovation to achieve, progress, results....maybe that will be "enough". But it never is. Is it?

I'll even go so far as to guess your career choice was dictated by a desire to please an earthly father. His Legacy looms large. Too large. His standards are impossible, his favour unattainable. You're striving to fill a bottomless pit that will consume every part of your life you dedicate to it.

My friend, the stress shows in your body. You're physically paying for this struggle. Your wife is paying. Your children are paying. Dearly. You have foisted on them the same standard of perfection that was foisted upon you.

I pray for you often, X. I commit to do so for as long as I have breath. This side of eternity, I may never know whether you've thrown off the oppressively heavy weight that you and your family carry. God graciously holds my curiosity and hope for me. I leave you with a prayer for


Peace in God's perfect love,
Ella