To the Person Who Stole My Van

Dear Van Thief,

I wish you hadn't taken my van.

I keep telling myself that I forgive you, and then something comes up, and I realize that I still have hard feelings. Usually this is because I'll be wanting something I left in the van. Whatever prompted you to take a van that messy? Puked on, peed on car seats, dirty clothes, food wrappers, random fruit snacks? Then add all the toys, and left shoes. Mine was a van that was well-loved, but not well-cared for. I'm actually embarrassed that you saw all that mess. I would say, if I'd known you were coming I would have cleaned, but let's be honest, if I'd known you were coming I would have stayed home from church and you'd have stolen someone else's car from the parking lot.

I want you to know that you stole my dream car. People thought I should be excited about getting a new car - yes, the insurance declared it a loss - but Buddy, that was my new dream car. It fit my family just right, came at the right price, a/c that worked great, I even loved the color.

I also want you to know that you caused some financial hardship. You can't just take people's cars and expect them to pop on over to the dealership chuckling indulgently about what a naughty boy (or girl) you've been, and oh, isn't it lucky that we're independently wealthy and can fix this up right away. Even after the insurance payment, what you did caused debt and stress. I've asked myself if you justify your decisions by focusing on your own financial hardships. Buddy, if you're in a tough spot, I'm sorry. I truly am. But your lack of cow didn't entitle you to mine.

I want you to know that you didn't ruin Christmas. I thought for a few minutes you had, taking the van the Sabbath before Christmas like that, but then I realized there wasn't any way for you or anybody else to ruin Christmas, because Christ has already Atoned for our sins (even you taking the van) and made it possible for each of us to return to live with our Father in Heaven. It's already done, and nobody can take that away from us.

I want you to know I sort of forgive you. I say sort of, because I still get pretty irked about the whole thing. There were belongings in there that I miss but don't have the funds or priority to replace. And the next time we go on a road trip, we're not going to have any leg room or personal space - especially the three babies in the back. And if you hadn't done it, we'd have been out of debt much sooner, and had that much more in savings. I say I forgive you, because I have the desire to be a good Christian, and because I want the forgiveness of God extended to me for my shortcomings. I say I forgive you because it's the right thing to do. So until I can learn to truly forgive, I want to offer you my verbal (and written) forgiveness.

And if there were two things I would thank you for, it would be these: 1. Thank you, from the bottom of my soul, for taking the van when we weren't in it. and 2. Thank you for leaving the bike and the girls' new coats when you ditched the van. I didn't have the money to replace them.

Sincerely,
Karyn