I’ve got mail!
Thursday, June 21, 2012 § Leave a comment
Since mid-March I’ve been meaning to blog about this. But I had to wait until June. That’s roughly three months. In my book, that’s a long time.
So here’s the story. I’ve got a letter from the past. (March, specifically.) Scheduled to arrive on my birthday. Written by myself.
It’s actually an e-mail. Though I would have wanted the classic handwritten, hand-delivered letter—receiving a letter you yourself penned and mailed to yourself and which you totally forgot about until the day it arrives would feel a heavenly surprise, wouldn’t it?—I couldn’t complain about receiving an e-mail from my past self. And I have FutureMe to thank for.
Some things weren’t going smoothly when I wrote that letter. That’s in fact one reason I wrote to myself. To sort of breathe out. To organize my thoughts. To give myself some pep talk.
Turns out the letter did more than what I originally planned it to do.
Turns out when I was writing that letter, I was unknowingly setting myself up for some surprise.
I didn’t know then that the words from the past would reverberate loud and clear in the present, that they would rouse me to believe more, that they would talk to me with wisdom bred from suffering. Because even though they are layered with anxiety, they are not bereft of hope and faith.
“Let’s see.” You’ve used that phrase a lot these days. It only goes to show how clueless you are of the future. But that’s okay. Just keep believing God’s in control. It is this belief that got—and still gets—you through the night. Please continue to harbor it in your heart. Things are going to be better.
Things got better indeed. What a difference three months make! I feel grateful that as I read the letter, I am reminded that whatever situation we find ourselves in, it will always turn for the better down the road. Night always gives way to day. And the moment light stretches out from the sky, it brightens up everything it touches. Always.
So yes, the letter made me one happy, hope-filled birthday.