Grateful: I've Got Mail

As I kid, I loved getting mail.  Because when you're a kid, all mail is good mail, right?  Magazines.  Birthday cards.  Letters from pen pals.  None of that e-mail or texting or IM stuff.  It was all about the pen and paper.  As much as I loved writing, I loved being written to even more.  I remember literally wallpapering my bedroom in the "3rd House in Williamston" (we moved a lot) with letters that my cousin Heather wrote me.  She had the BEST smiley faces ever.  She is a tad older than me, and I really looked up to her.  Still do, as a matter of fact.  So alongside my favorite box (yes, I had a favorite box...did I mention we moved a lot?) her letters were prominently displayed for regular reading.  Of course, sometimes she wrote on the back of a page...how exactly to display those letters properly was always a dilemma, but I managed.

As an adult, I don't always love getting mail.  Because when you're an adult, a lot of the mail is not good mail.  Add to it all of that e-mail and texting and IM stuff, and it's less about the pen and the paper.  But one thing remains:  as much as I love writing, I still love being written to even more.  I don't wallpaper my room with the mail I receive, but I do have a box of cards and letters and notes.  And if it's an e-mail, I print it out and throw it in there.  I'm so sneaky like that...

This "Grateful" series is a slightly thematic one.  As I've reached some milestones of closure, healing and restoration in my life since a year and a half ago, I think it's only fitting that I spend some time remembering and sharing some things that I've come to be deeply grateful for in this process.  I'll be doing my best to keep it real and personal, but not cross the line of "that really should have been shared in a face to face conversation, or maybe not at all."  God gives us stories to share...so that He can be glorified and others can be drawn in closer to Him.  My prayer is that this series, starting with my post yesterday, will do just that.  Moving right along...

Over the past year and a half I have been reminded time and again how powerful the mail has become, those letters and cards and notes.  The ones written by hand.  Addressed by hand.  Stamp slightly crooked if you're lucky.  I cannot even begin to tell you how critical these pieces of mail have been in my life.  Much different shapes than the eggs I talked about yesterday, but just as big of an impact.  Just yesterday I received a card from an older couple at my church.  A couple that I don't really socialize with on the weekends or anything, but I know them both from various interactions.  The card was simple.  The message to the point.  But to read the encouraging and affirming words penned by hand was breath-taking.

Needless to say, I've spent a lot more time writing little notes and addressing envelopes by hand over the past year.  I love technology, but you just cannot beat getting something good in the mail.

Reading over my journal list of blessings I made reference to yesterday, I was shocked to see just how many of the things listed involved me walking down the driveway to my beat up ole mailbox held together with duct tape.  Notes of encouragement.  Anonymous gifts.  An occasional shipment of cookies or cleaning supplies from good friends.  The bills started to become blessings once I realized that a need was just another opportunity for God to do something cool.  And even the few pieces of not-so-cool correspondence were turned around to achieve things that were positive and significant...I can't help but chuckle at how ticked off those instances must have made satan. 

I'm not even kidding you, it literally got to the point where I would pray about when I was supposed to go get the mail.  If something discouraging was in the box, I wanted to make sure God had adequately prepared me.  If something encouraging was in the box, I wanted to make sure I saw it at the moment I needed it most.  If it was full of nothing but Oriental Trading Company catalogs and sweepstakes entry forms, I wanted to make sure I was stable enough to handle the disappointment (as much as I used to love looking through OTC).  I tried to explain the significance of when I would get the mail to somebody just recently, and I realized how weird it sounded.  But in all honesty...it was a REALLY big deal for awhile.  And even now, God continues to poke and prod my heart in various capacities after opening and closing my mailbox which is no longer sporting duct tape, but does have a few missing pieces.

It seems like a silly little thing, and the fact that my mailbox has had such a rough go of it (click here if you need something to pass the time and find my mailbox issues of interest to you) makes it even sillier...but to me, I guess it's not so little or silly.  Claiming my mailbox as a sacred place where God-things happen on a daily basis is something that God has done intentionally.  He knows the significance, even if nobody else does.  It's been a key component in my story.

It's also been a reminder.  Not just a pop-up window from Microsoft Outlook reminder...one of those convicting stick-around-for-awhile reminders.  A reminder to write my Compassion children.  A reminder to write my own children.  A reminder to not moan and groan when the bills come, but rather count it a blessing that God has assisted me in managing those bills and providing what is needed to pay those bills.  A reminder to write notes and cards and send anonymous goodies to other people.  A reminder to prayerfully consider what He would want me to do with each of the opportunities to give funds to organizations and people doing really big things to meet really big needs in the name of Jesus.

Most of all, it's been a reminder that God talks to us.  He communicates with me.  Little ole imperfect me gets to have personal interaction with the Holy and Perfect Creator.  And even on the holidays that give my wonderful mail carriers a break and leave my tattered mailbox empty, I have more than enough love letters to read.  They are contained in a fairly large book.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  The Bible.  The letters in that book are just as relevant and timely and powerful as anything else He sends my way...and the postage has already been paid.  :)

And for that I am truly grateful.