When You Don't Know What You Were Made For: Love Letters (Part 2)

I write them every Christmas. At bare minimum I give them to my immediate family(17 written last year), I try to write for my extended family as well. They are the best gift I know how to give, the only gift I think they might still have in 20 years.

Love Letters.

I take note throughout the year of things I love and appreciate about each person. I pray for them, and try to be aware of how God is working in their lives.

The commitment to write these letters has been challenging in several ways. They remind me to be in real relationship and communication with those I love... how else will I have specifics to write about? I don't ever want these to become generic "you are special" kind of letters. Each year already seems shorter and busier, and paying attention and not missing moments that really count takes effort. Sad, but true.

They make me think. Really stop and think. Why do I love and appreciate this person? How have they been a blessing to me? How can I encourage them in their relationship with God? If one of us was called home to be with our Lord tomorrow, what would I wish I had said?

It makes me cry. It's surprising how long we can go without truly saying "I love and appreciate you because ... " to those we treasure so much. And the because matters. The "because" can sometimes be surprisingly difficult to write at different points in certain relationships. The specific appreciation and praising in some strange way makes me feel vulnerable to whoever I may be struggling with. It sheds light on grievances or offenses I silently hadn't let go. Writing the love letters breaks down walls in me I didn't even know were there. It helps break down the lies, bitterness, unforgiveness and pride that are tucked away in my deceitful heart and frees me to speak the truth " I love you because...".

Though tomorrow is not guaranteed, we forget that we are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

I want to be a refreshing mist.

"Like cold water to a weary soul is good news to a distant land."

~Proverbs 25:25

We can be islands unto ourselves. Even from those we live with. Especially from those we live with. The "distant land" I may need to send good news to is often sitting across from me at the dinner table.

Maybe these are some reasons that when I receive a letter or note it is so cherished. I have always felt that way. I love written love!

I think Jesus does too. He is such a personal God, he speaks to us so intimately, using the most endearing terms in our language to communicate His affection to our deaf hearts. His letter to us is unrushed and detailed, telling us all that we need to know about His love for us. If we go home to Him tomorrow, those are the things He wanted said and read.

But it can be hard to hear Him. And it can be hard to read His letter.

So He gives us another kind of letter.

"You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts."

~2 Cor. 3:3

He gives us each other.

You are His Letter.

I am too.

What kind of letter am I? Who am I a letter to? What do I communicate about Christ to others through my life?

He is Love. Would they say I am patient or kind? That I am not easily angered, that I keep no record of wrongs?

He is Truth. Do I help them recognize His voice? Do I speak Truth, or do I let other things dominate my words?

He is Hope. Do I even get near enough to the lost, the lonely, the wounded, the dying, for them to even have a chance to read His letter that He has written on my heart?

And what Letters are God sending my way? What is He writing to me through those all around me who know, love, and follow Him? Could I be brave enough to listen to them? To Him?

He created some amazing, heart-pounding, knee-bending, Spirit-crafted Letters.

I know. I get to live with some of them.

I give them my letters, but do I give them His? Do I tell them how much He loves them enough? Do I tell them why?

"This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him."

~1 John 4:9

"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

~ John 10:10

The Word Who became flesh, dwelt among us, and died for us so that we might have full life. The greatest Love Letter ever written.

When You Don't Know What You Were Made For: Love Letters (Part 1)

Nothing could have prepared me for what she said. It was so unexpected.

Mom could barely choke out the words.

"Mr. Davenport died this morning..."

Silence only broken by her soft, deep sobbing. I sat still, dazed by this sharp blow. My throat ached, tears burned, welled, dropped and poured out. He was one of my Dad's dearest friends, a well loved family friend, my dear friend...

It was early morning, and my mind was swimming, thrashing, trying to tread water in high, crashing waves. "What? How... what?...".

We are deeply affected by those who love us well, we trust them with a part of ourselves, and now that part was suddenly, inexplicably gone.

He had joked with me, smiled at me, talked with me, listened to me and made judgements but never judged me my whole lost-little-girl-trying-to-be-a-woman life.

And when this scared, scarred, lonely girl admitted to unwed pregnancy at nineteen he did not break me with his words but broke down my fears with Truth and Love. He immediately made a self-proclamation to be the child's godfather.

My daughter was barely making her presence seen, only a tiny bump that was changing my world... now he was gone.

She would never hear how his voice smiled. She would never hear the jokes, the laughing at his own jokes, or the velvet-tipped arrow questions followed by treats and movies and time together.

She would never get to hug him.

He loved to hug people, break through those barriers we set up so well. He hugged with his arms and with his words. He rightly called fellow Christ followers "brother" and "sister", and treated them as such. He loved Jesus and walked with Him and talked with Him and shared their conversations with anyone who would listen.

I remember the last time I saw him, I got a call from my Dad that he was in the hospital. I had visited him in the hospital often, many times over many years. He was in for something different this time, not as serious as others. I've never liked hospitals, but he had a way of making them seem less scary. I was sure he would have new stories to tell, especially if he had a new nurse that didn't know him. He loved to yell "ouch!" when they would try to give him an IV or shot then he would laugh and try to joke away the panic he had caused. Needless to say he was popular and well know by the staff.

I almost didn't go because I had really goofy hair from a photoshoot I had just done. It was my last pre-baby shoot, and I was self-conscience and worn from having worked all day in white clothes(that emphasized my shameful secret) and tired from not having eaten well. But I knew he wouldn't care what I looked like, though I was sure he would tease me about it. He sincerely complemented my hair almost immediately after we greeted each other, disarming my insecurity and leaving us open for real, undistracted conversation.

He had an infection so he wouldn't let me hug him. Especially since I was pregnant. So he hugged me with his words the whole time, me the injured and him the whole, laying in the hospital bed happy, hopeful, and just beautifully himself. When the time came for our normal goodbye he smiled warmly and waved saying "I'll hug you next time I see you!...". He promised.

I know he'll keep that promise.

It was surreal, but had to be true. I had rarely seen my mother cry. I hugged my swelling belly and grieved beyond words for this man who had loved me so well. I gave my daughter his name in the center of hers and promised to tell her of his love for her though they would never meet face to face on this earth.

James.

I wondered if he knew how much I loved him. Had I told him enough? Had I told him why?

Life's brevity struck me to the core and inspired the Love Letters I write to my family each year...

The Powerful Gift We Forget We Have

I can't help it.... I have to arrange the plate of food just so... there, now it's perfect. I know it will be a mixed up mess in about two minutes, but that rarely stops me from attempting some kind of attractive presentation in my plating.

I bring it to the table and set it before her. Pancakes from scratch dripping with maple syrup with a side of homemade turkey sausage and fresh sliced organic apples and clementine oranges. A pink strawberry smoothie and a pink striped straw win a giggling toothy grin from my sweet Little Girl. I know what's coming.

She passionately exclaims(complete with excited hand motions) "you're the best mom ever!!!". This is one of the most common accolades she bestows on me. It is her beautiful word-gift that melts my mama heart.

Is she learning that from me? Is this a glimmer of something good being reflected in my Mini Mirror?

So many times I have brushed a curl away from her deep blue eyes and tucked it behind her ear. " Selah, what do I think about you?"

She rolls her eyes in a "shy" embarrassed kind of way. But she's smiling. I've spoken this over her even before she could understand what the words meant. She opens my word gift.

Her smile widens as she says the words "you think I'm beautiful."

"That's right! You are." I continue with my usual follow up question "And is beautiful on the outside?"

More eye rolling and smiling. Body language that says "of course I know the answer to this, give me a harder question, mom!"

She shouts(not intentionally-it is just spoken at Selah volume) "No! Beautiful is on the inside! God makes me beautiful."

I laugh. "You are right. God makes us beautiful on the inside. You can be pretty or attractive on the outside, but you can't be truly beautiful unless you have God on the inside, and unless you look like Him. And you are beautiful. "

We often have this conversation over a meal, so next she would shovel a way-too-big forkful of something in her mouth and still manage a fairly loud(though muffled) "I know, mom. "

The communication lines are open now. She wants to hear what she already knows "... And do you think I'm smart?"

"Yes."

"And that I'm a great artist?"

"Yes, I do."

"And that I'm a great big sister?"

"You are!"

This goes on and on and on. She loves to hear my praises of her. She beams. She is strengthened by my word love. Words are one of her most requested gifts. I write her Christmas and birthday letters, but she will still come up to her Daddy and I at random times, hold out a piece of paper and a pen and say "write all the things you like about me, okay?".

Word are powerful gift that we forget we have.

As she reminds me how precious they are, I try to be intentional about being generous with my word-gifts to others. I think of my husband, family and friends. I think of church family, store clerks, and strangers.

Then I am challenged to think of what my word gifts might mean to my sponsored child. You can view the video here.

I am humbled. Everyday, faithfully, He draws me to Himself, speaking His love over me.

To come, still, and listen to the Word that changed my world.

"But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness."

~Hebrews 3:13

"Like cold water to a weary soul is good news from a distant land."

~Proverbs 25:25

"He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions."

~Psalm 107:20

"The tongue has the power of life and death"

~Proverbs 18:21

Lord Jesus, Word who became flesh and dwelt among us, help me to spread Life!

Face Boot Camp

I hand out another brochure with a friendly smile and am grateful that my presence is acknowledged. The next few women completely ignore me. I am used to it, these bridal extravaganzas can be brutal. These women are focused. But I repeat myself.

There can be no slowing down, no hello, no smiling. They are on a mission!

Then I see them. I can't look away the entire long aisle as they walk past. They stand out like a sore thumb in this buzzing crowd. This one couple is actually smiling and holding hands. They aren't rushing past, just taking it all in and enjoying being with one another.

In all my years of working bridal show booths I can't remember seeing another couple that looked like that.

Shouldn't you look happy when you are planning to unite your life with your love? Shouldn't smiling and hand holding come easily? The important part of marriage seemed lost...

It made me sad. It made me think.

When is the last time I held hands with my husband? When is the last time I really looked him in the face and smiled at him? Has an important part of our marriage been lost in the buzz of babies and remodeling and homeschooling and work and going and doing?

Not too long ago when he came home from work I was grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't stop smiling. I just loved him and wanted to look into his face and smile. With raised eyebrows he asked me what was wrong with me.

That is what is wrong with me!

If my smiling stands out like a sore thumb and is easily noticed... that is what is wrong with me. But it was catching... he couldn't help smiling back!

So I've enrolled my face in boot camp. I am practicing expressing gratefulness and thankfulness and smiling. It's not as easy as I hoped. I didn't realize how weak my smile muscles were until I had determined to be joyful all day. It only takes a few days without exercising cheerfulness to find it extremely challenging.

But I love this man whose name I bear, whose hand I've had the privilege to hold, whose face I can shamelessly smile into.

"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."~John 15:9-13
I have been prideful enough to think that I could lay down my life for my friends. But can I even smile at my husband, my children, my family, my friends consistently? On busy days? On difficult days? Do I set an example of joy?
I want to do what I see the Father do. He smiles at me. Anytime I am in His presence, He smiles at me. He alone can melt away my business, my focus on lesser things. He smiles at me and it is catching! I want to spread His smile around.
I don't want to miss what is best by being so focused on what is good.
If I have to choose, I will lay the laundry basket down, leave the bed unmade and the trash can full and I will take time to hold hands and smile.

Photo Credits: Brandi Claussen, Texan Weddings