A moving reminder

It was a beautiful, sunny day—too beautiful to spend at my desk. So from time to time, I took myself outside and pottered around in our garden, pulling out weeds near our letterbox. As I did, I reflected on how little personal mail comes for me these days. I remembered how, when our children were young, I would pounce on those letters from family members far away and relish sitting down to read them. No internet back then—and no mobile phones for those quick texts back and forth either. In fact, we did not even have a home phone at that stage. I remembered my mother’s letters, always written on both sides of small, lined sheets of thin paper, and sighed.

But what was I doing, standing there on such a beautiful day, feeling so nostalgic? Those times were long gone. At that point, I realised I had not actually checked the letterbox. I reached inside—and there was a letter, addressed to me in handwriting I did not immediately recognise. Probably someone ordering one of my books, I decided, as I tucked the letter in my pocket and continued weeding for a while.

Eventually, I went inside and opened it. It was written in gold on black paper—and it was from our son. It was, in fact, a thank you letter, putting into words various things he appreciated about our relationship and the way he had been brought up. So many lovely things, written simply and clearly in his own unique way. I re-read his words several times, allowing them to sink in and touch my heart. Yes, those tears did well up at times, but not from sadness. Instead, I was filled with joy and gratitude at such an unexpected, affirming gift.

I sit here now, perusing that letter once again. Over the years, our daughters too have expressed similar thoughts, face to face or via little messages, as they have thanked me for my ongoing support and efforts on their behalf. Of course, I would never think of doing anything less than my best for our children—yet I reflect on how heart-warming it is to be thanked anyway.

Then I glance out my window at the blue, blue sky and the trees bending in the breeze and realise how often I overlook expressing my own heartfelt thanks to my heavenly Father, not only for the beauty of this world but for everything else I have been given in my life. I know God loves me unconditionally. I know God has rescued me. I know God walks with me day by day. I have experienced all this grace and goodness from my heavenly Father—and so much more. Yet how often do I take it all for granted, as if it was somehow my right to receive, rather than all gift?

So right now today, Lord, I remember all your loving-kindness to me. My words seem trite, but my heart overflows with thankfulness. You are a great, great God, so worthy of all praise and honour and thanks—and I love you.

Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come before him with thanksgiving …  Psalm 95:1-2

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