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An Open Letter To All My Unbelieving Friends

To all my unbelieving friends,


I’m sorry. For so many things.


I’m sorry for not being brave enough. Sorry for not being the kind of friend you need the most. I’m sorry for letting so many opportunities slip by while being well aware that it might well be the last one. I’m sorry if you felt safe and secure and if you’re placing your trust in all the wrong things.


And I’m sorry for knowing better and yet not doing better. I apologize for having the treasure of the good news—the only thing you need!—and keeping it all to myself. All because I’m not brave enough. All because I lose the battle that’s first fought in the mind. Sorry for being weak.


I’m sorry for knowing that you don’t know Christ—and acting as if that’s okay for now. As if we still have time when, in reality, that’s never guaranteed to us. Sorry for knowing that your image of God is something different from the God of the Bible—and not telling you all about it. I’m sorry for failing to point you clearly to the one truth that matters. To the true Source of life. 


I’m sorry for being articulate about every societal issue there is but failing to engage you with the heart of all issues, which is an issue of the heart. Your heart.


I’m sorry for being so competent to pull up every historical record relevant to the conversation at hand, but deliberately failing to address the gravest record fo them all. Your record.


And I’m sorry for all the times I could’ve warned you that man’s two greatest problems—your greatest problems—are a bad record in heaven and a bad heart here on earth. I’m sorry if I don’t have the zeal and the guts to tell you how dangerous is the path and life that you enjoy and with which you feel so safe. Sorry for not being able to break it into you—that your religion cannot save you. That you can never be good enough. That it’s only Christ as you beg Him for forgiveness in repentance and faith who can give you life, and life abundant.


Sorry if I wasn’t able to deliver the message—the only message I live to send. I’m sorry for letting you pass the gospel message by. This one’s on me and my cowardice, fear, and paralysis.


May God be merciful and make me brave, more loving, and more honest.

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