Today I am thankful for mail. It’s amazing, how the ability to communicate more easily has increased, yet the depth of communication is diminishing. Our little black mailbox has an abundance of white envelopes with shiny plastic windows, almost automatically identifying it as “junk”. Mail has always been important to me. I remember sitting around the table in our Africa home, as my dad put us kids to work folding letters and licking stamps by the hundred, before mailing out our prayer letter. It has always been a part of my life. I remember writing my own “newsletters” as I grew older, reporting things like the weather and the status of our family pet. Once my sister, Sherry, and I made a joint newsletter and mailed them all in handmade envelopes made from magazine pages. This week I got busy making a stack of my own. I almost felt like she was with me, folding them in front of the fireplace at our old house, giddy with excitement over how people would love the surprise of such a colorful envelope in their mailbox.
Matthew and I used to write to each other all the time. Before email, before texting, I got the kind of mail that made my heart skip a beat when I saw the handwriting. This week my heart has skipped a lot of beats. Matthew has taken the time to write me every day and surprised me with real deal mail. Stamp, envelope, everything. No return address, because it would just arrive home anyway. Each letter has blessed me in unspeakable ways. I love my husband more than ever. I’m so thankful for the time he takes to treasure my heart.