Time heals all wounds they say…I don’t have a wound—just a big hole in my heart. What people do not understand is that we are all born into sin…the wage of sin is death. We will all die. God is the giver of life. He created life. He blew into Adam’s nostril, the breathe of life. Our God is not, shall not, and cannot be associated with EVIL. He is gentle. He is loyal. He is just. He is LOVE.
He gave us a warning, “Therefore, rejoice, O heavens! And you who live in the heavens, rejoice! But terror will come on the earth and the sea, for the devil has come down to you in great anger, knowing that he has little time”—Revelation 12:12
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| Keith D. Johnson 30 Aug 1972 - 7 Mar 1998 |
I know death is inevitable. I’m not afraid of death. I am not afraid of dying. I hurt so badly because to me, my line of thinking, you did not die. Your life was taken by someone’s hand. You were terminated by the daughter of mankind—a sinner like me—someone who defined lust and envy as love. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud” 1 Corinthians 13:4. Love does not HURT…love HEALS.
I have learned to cope. I cope. I cry, but I cope; still, one day in March and one day in August…I hurt. I feel anger. I feel cheated. Why were we given this life sentence? What was our crime? What makes people have that attitude, “If I cannot have you no one will”? How selfish can people be? How can you cause people that much pain?
I don’t want to hurt. I try to tell myself every year, “Dee, you better than this!” I’ve prayed….I’ve prayed. So many pictures of you in my house—stained with tears. I want to get over this. I can’t even go to Auntee’s house without getting chills. I wonder does that IT know how much she has punished me.
God, I love Auntee like crazy, but when I see her…I see you. I can hardly stand to look at Cobe, Duke, & Darrell. I have damn near secluded myself from your family. I have written you a poem every year. I hate going home…you are not there. I don’t know , well I do know, I guess I just can’t do it because I am allowing my HATE for IT to win over my love for God. I know that is the only thing…HE is the only way, I will move on from this.
I was telling Phil (oh, I’m sorry Wight) about how you kicked me under the table at O’Charley’s. You and Don had come to go to the R. Kelly concert. You kicked me and asked me a question in our whisper lip talk. I had him laughing. I was able to tell you what I told you, because I knew you wouldn’t judge me!
Wondering if you would have gray hair…a pot belly…still dancing SMOOVE…the Bankhead bounce…you said, “I don’t know if she’s doing the Bankhead bounce or having a seizure”! LOL
You, my dear, are priceless. I think of you in everything I do. I love you more than my mouth can speak…more than my hands can type! So many memories…so many secrets…so much love. I miss you. I thank you!
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