Love Letters

For my birthday my daughter gifted me with a book called The Art of the Handwritten Note, accompanied by a fancy fountain pen and papyrus paper. In the book, Margaret Shepherd writes, “Part of the pleasure of sending a handwritten note is picturing its arrival. It’s like a gift; the anticipation that leads up to opening a handwritten note adds to the actual pleasure for both the giver and the receiver.” I used to believe I was weird (that’s still debatable), because when I receive a letter in the mail from someone special it may take me days to open it. At first, I did not understand why, but eventually I realized it was the anticipation of sitting with a cup of tea and reading whatever my friend has taken the time to pen. I long to savor the moment.

I am especially blessed with three friends who regularly send beautifully handwritten notes, many pages long, with such details that transport me to their vastly different worlds. Carol, my British friend, often writes as she’s traveling on a city bus or subway in London, filling me in on her ministry and her children I’ve watched grow up. Mise (“mee-say” which she still writes below her signature, as if I’d forget how to pronounce it after 16 years of friendship) is my almost 90-year-old friend from Japan, who composes the most heartfelt sentiments in her broken English and always reminds me of the special time she was laying in the hospital and my husband and I sang hymns over her. I’m sure every time she writes that sentence there must be tears that surface, because every time I read it, I am in need of a tissue. Then there’s my fairly new friend, Kathy, who is an Amish farmer’s wife and writes by candlelight in the evenings to share what she has planted in her garden and how the Lord has been good to them.

Receiving letters from these and other friends brings immeasurable joy to my soul. They are a balm of soothing ointment for the calloused world in which we live. They remind me to slow down, to pay attention to the minute details, and to savor the gift of good friends. These letters are treasures, but I would be remiss not to mention the greatest love letters I’ve received, the ones written to me in red.

Words like, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace.” And “Don’t be afraid. Just trust me, and she will be all right.” Or, “Go back to your family and tell them all the wonderful things God has done for you.” And this: “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me…will live again.” *

These love letters written in red bring the utmost joy to my soul. They are a balm in Gilead that soothes and comforts like none other. They remind me to selah – to pause, to stop and listen, to pay attention, and to savor the Savior. Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your Word. May the letters you’ve written transform me to be more like you. Amen.

*Verses from Luke 8:48, 50, 39 and John 11:25

Note: Red letter edition Bibles print the words Jesus spoke in red ink.