In Pieces

Some weeks ago I found a torn letter, its many pieces littered over the lawn of the Chapel-by-the-Lake, the ampitheater across the street from my old church. That venue has plenty of meaning and memories for me, and will merit its own entry. But the pieces of this letter.....


I was able to discern a few phrases, things like "I know, but...." and "it's better if..." The handwriting appeared to be female, an elegant cursive with ballons dotting the "i"s. At first, I thought it was a Dear John letter. I imagine some dejected fellow had come to the Chapel, to gaze out over the lovely Intracoastal, to read this missive of pain. He read it several times, then ripped and ripped, letting the wind take it away. I'd been here, litterally. I'd gotten such a letter nearly 20 years ealier as a college student at the university which lies right across the street. It was an odd moment. All the drama came back. Still happening, and how many times before I set foot here?

As I collected more pieces, I started to find remnants of Bible verses. Hmmm. Maybe these were sermon notes? Now I wasn't sure. I brightened a bit, thinking maybe our anonymous lovelorn wasn't such at all. But worse, maybe someone having doubts about their faith. I suddenly lost my hope, then regained it. I've been there too. And back.......

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