You are myself

Photo Credit: Catherine Yong

I came across a letter written by Helmuth von Moltke to his wife, Freya von Moltke 12 days before his death. It is one of sixteen hundred letters he wrote to her during their years of marriage. He wrote this one from a Nazi prison where he was awaiting his execution for his resistance against the brutality of Hitler's regime.

I do not pretend I fully understand his words, nor the love his had for his wife.
But I want to.

So, I am saving his testament here, in the hope that I might grow to understand. For I believe this is close to what the Lord means when he says that we are to love one another.

January 11, 1945

“And now my dear, I come to you, I have not included you in my list because you, my dear, stand in a totally different position from all others. You are not one of God’s agents to make me what I am, rather you are myself. You are my thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. Without this chapter no human being is truly human... Without you, my dear, I would not have ‘had’ love. I should not think of saying that I love you; that would be quite false. Rather you are the one part of me, which would be lacking if I was alone…It is only in our union—you and I—that we form a complete human being…And that is why, my dear, I am quite certain that you will never lose me on this earth—no, not for a moment. And this fact it was given us to symbolize finally through our common participation in the Holy Communion, that celebration which was my last.”

Helmuth von Moltke was hanged in prison on January 23, 1945.

love you forever

My dear boys,

I read this book to you last night. You were very nice and soft to cuddle. When I read it as a little girl, I thought the mommy the in the story was a bit weird, her love was a bit crazy. Just like you, I thought she was a bit silly, rocking her adult son like that. But now that I am a mommy, I understand why she would do that. I would be missing you too when you are no longer by my side.

I may not climb into your bedroom window using a ladder (I'm sure you'd oblige giving me a set of your keys), but remember, I will be praying for you.

Your grandmother, my mother, used to tell me that she prayed for me when she couldn't sleep at night. I thought I understood what she was saying, but I didn't.

When mommy tells you that I am praying for you, I am really telling you that I love you. I love you when I see you in the morning and when I sing to you at night and all the hours in between. I am so happy to know you, so proud to be your mommy. I loved you when I first laid eyes on you, I loved you today when you fit so perfectly on my lap, and I will love you always and always.

When mommy tells you that I am praying for you, I am really telling you that even though I want to be with you wherever you go, I cannot.

For a short while, our world is mostly you and me. You are what I hear, smell, see. I am yours and you are mine. This is a very special time. We get to celebrate every small success together. I get to wrap your fingers with band aids, and kiss every hurt away. Daddy gets to hold you when you get your shots, even when you were kicking and screaming at him. We get to remind you to turn, and come back to the way of grace.

There will come a day when we will not be there to hold you. Pain will come. You will feel loneliness, rejection, betrayal. You will lose your way. You will find yourselves tossed in storms too great. Your boat will seem very small, and the waves will be very tall. You will be scared and will want to give up. You will know that you are not enough.

Remember, mommy is praying for you.

I am praying because I know God is with you. He will go with you to places where I cannot. His eyes will watch over you. His arms will fight for you. His hands will uphold you. His love will cover you. He loves you more, much more than I ever could. His love is crazier than climbing up a ladder into your room. He came down to live with us, to be us, to die for us.

You must remember to call upon him. Turn to him when you get lost. Fix your eyes on the cross. He is your sword, your shield. He is your light when the days are dark. He is your shepherd, you will not want anything else. He will bring you home.

Soul, be not anxious

My dear friend,

In case you need to hear these words as I do today.

I will help you.

That is very little for me to do, to help you. Consider what I have done already. What! not help you? Why, I bought you with my blood. What! not help you? I have died for you; and if I have done the great, will I not do the less?

I will help you.

It will cost me nothing. Redeeming you cost me much, but I have all and abound. Help you? You need never fear that. If you need a thousand times as much help as you do need, I would give it to you; but it is little that you do require compared with what I have to give. It is great for you to need, but it is nothing for me to bestow. Fear not.

I will help you.

-Charles H. Spurgeon, The Spurgeon Series 1857 & 1858