Dear Justice

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Leah Abraham -DearJustice3

Dear Justice,

Old friend, it has been a while, hasn’t it?

Do you remember those countless, sleepless nights when we sat on my bedroom floor, planning meetings, writing grant proposals and dreaming of days when peace would reign and love would flourish?

Remember those long, passionate speeches I would give my peers on why they should care about the orphans and not their grades? Or how I would convince my teachers to offer me their spare change and extra credit so I could single-handedly save the world from disease? I spoke with such passion and vigor, I think I might have chased all doubt away.

We dreamed together. We prayed together. We left everything we had at the crossroads of hope in humanity and faith in better days.

We were unstoppable warriors and furious lovers.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. I got tired. The burden seemed too heavy and the end was nowhere in sight. I spoke of you and for you, but I no longer believed. My knees became weak and doubt was a frequent visitor.

Is this worth it? Am I really reducing child mortality rates? Am I making a dent in poverty? Am I actually saving anyone from sex slavery? Why am I doing this? Am I really making a difference in the world?

With all my strength, I tried to hold onto your hand. But it slipped.

I let go.

Those were the dark days. I cried bitterly over what I thought were wasted days. I had poured every ounce of life I had in you, but I became an empty vessel.

And oh, how I missed you. My heart ached for you and for the work we so tirelessly did. I burned with agony trying to figure out where things went wrong and why we parted ways.

But you never left, did you?  

You lingered and you waited. You watched as I peeled away another layer of youth and naivety, and as I learned to color the world with complexity, and not just with black or white, good or bad.

I saw glimpses of you in my liberal arts classes. But it was in practicing my craft as a writer that I saw you most clearly. When I’d sit with strangers or friends, you would lean in and whisper, “Go ahead, ask them your questions. Follow your curiosity.”

Well, I didn’t realize you were the one whispering back then.

I needed to relearn your voice. Just like lovers do, I needed to once again study the curves on your body, the feel of your hand, the strength of your shoulders, and the endurance of your passion.

I’d be lying if I said I still believe in our fairy tale ending where we crushed injustice and peace reigns and everyone is happy. Life doesn’t work that way, does it?

I might be wiser than the foolish romantic I used to be, but I have a long way to go. I have fewer answers than questions, and more doubt than I ever had. I have so much to learn and grow.

I’m still peeling away my young, naïve layers. I’m still finding that you are more complex and beautiful than I ever knew.

Be close, trusted friend. I will tire, doubt and run away occasionally. Be patient with my fragile heart and sensitive mind. Be near and whisper your love songs to me. Remind me, once more, that the fight is never hopeless. Remind me that people matter and they are worth it. Remind me how to dream like a foolish romantic and chart the waters like a mystic.

Remind me how to be unstoppable warriors and furious lovers once more.

Yours truly,

Leah

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Leah Abraham
Leah is a storyteller + writer + journalist + creative + empathizing romantic + pessimistic realist + ISFP + Enneagram type 2 + much more. She lives in the Seattle area where she works as an education reporter and features writer. Bonus facts: She loves the great indoors, hates to floss, and is obsessed with Korean food and her dorky, immigrant family.
Leah Abraham
Leah Abraham

Latest posts by Leah Abraham (see all)

  • So beautiful to hear your heart, speaking from the wisdom of maturity and reaching out to a fervor that is more seasoned and sustainable.
    May we find grace to live with fire in our bones over the things that matter until the day we leave this planet.

    • Leah Abraham

      <3 Thank you Michele

  • Leah, This is so powerful. Thank you for sharing your heart in such a transparent, haunting and beautiful way. Jesus is more married to justice than we can ever hope to be. Take heart, sister. We’re not alone in this.

    • Leah Abraham

      Oh, Leslie. Thank you for that reminder — we’re not alone in this <3

  • Helene Burns

    Your words are beautiful and filled with hope-filled and make me realize that though we all grow into to maturity and wisdom, we should never lose the stunning passion and drive that brought us to the place we are today. You are inspiring and your words have touched my heart. Thank you xo

    • Leah Abraham

      Thank you for your constant encouragement, Helene! <3

  • Mmmhmmm. Preach.

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