Here, roughly, is the message I left for my friend this evening:
Hello, Rebecca. It is Michael. I love you. I love the Rebecca that I met twelve years ago. I love the Rebecca that you are today. I love the Rebecca that I hope and pray that you will become: Saint Rebecca.
All the people in Heaven are saints, and there no darkness enters in, and there you will find peace and everything will be made right.
Dearest friend, please give to God any bitterness or resentment that you still carry; surrender to Him anything that would keep you from being holy. Let Him take it away from you so that you can become a saint.
I hope that you and I will meet again, where there is no pain or sorrow. But we will both need to become saints, first!
I never got to tell you what I gave up for Lent, so that you could laugh at me. I gave up (tried to give up) bitterness, and contempt for others, and soy sauce. I did ok, pretty well, with one out of the three.
It is a difficult to become a saint. It is the act of a lifetime. It is the action of a whole life. You need to give all that you are to God, so that He can take it, and purify it, and give you back yourself made whole and perfect so that you can live as a saint with the saints.
I hope I have spoken wisely now, and in what I said to you before, and in what I hope to say, but if I speak foolishly, be consoled by the example of Job. In addition to all his other troubles, he had to endure bad advice from friends. But in the end, all that he had lost was restored to him.
I left out some of the chattiness, and awkwardness, and endearments, and a couple of side comments. But this is the gist. Be at peace, dear reader, and if time permits, please say a prayer for my dear friend Rebecca. God bless you.