I am finished with this. With it all of it. Everything.
And by finished, I didn’t mean that I had reached the end of my list of to do’s. I meant, I didn’t want to do another thing. Ever.
It was Monday afternoon, and the day had been hard. I stuck my head in the room where Steve was working and informed him of my status. Deep down held a longing for rescue that I knew wasn’t his job, but still, a girl can hope, right? Or at least let the man in her life know that this is not my favorite!
Bracing for third shift, I gathered my brood and left for home. There would be plenty to do upon arrival, and my head was sorting it out while my heart was sinking.
I crossed the porch to collect the mail, trying to ignore the downed porch swing holding Christmas wreaths, the water-damaged railings, and weak spots, in general. There are only so many hours in a day. Look away.
But what is this?
Interspersed with bills and advertisements was a red, white, and blue mailer. Smallish in size, it was packed with love. I could tell by the handwriting on the outside. Kind of like when Hope came.
Inside this package was a reminder that I am loved, and that God’s timing is perfect.
My sister had bought me a small, meaningful gift when we were shopping together over spring break, and it somehow returned home with her. So I received a package, present, and art-journaled card on a day when I needed to feel the love.
And I did. Feel it. Love.
Thanks, Sis, for knowing and loving me so well and for sharing your heart and your words with me.
This is my happy place!