Three years ago I wrote a sympathy card. It was to a friend from high school. Both she and her brother went to the small school that I graduated from. I knew them through a few classes together and the occasional friendly conversation and social event, but we weren't close enough to keep in touch past graduation.
Several years ago Donny began his battle with cancer, and three years ago he went to be with the Lord. It was one of those situations where my heart broke for his family, and especially his sister, Cynthia. It was one of those awkward situations where I wanted to help in someway, but it had been years since we had even spoken, so I didn't really know what to do.
So I sent a card. I wrote words that I could probably never say face-to-face (because I am bad at getting real in real-life).
Today Cynthia posted this on her Facebook page:
This is the card that I sent three years ago, worn from three years of being carried in a purse..."To remind me that I am never alone, to remind me to step out for other people, to remind me that there are people praying for you and considering you and you would never even know it."
Seeing this and reading Cynthia's words was humbling and encouraging at the same time.
You see, lately I have been feeling worn. I've been working really hard at a lot of things. I have grown tired; tired of trying to give my best all the time and often failing, tired of trying to go above and beyond, tired of never feeling like enough, and especially tired of feeling like none of these things make a difference.
Today the encouragement came full circle, and when I needed it the most Cynthia reminded me that the little things do matter. Prayers and kind words make a difference. I was reminded that God is in the small things, and that heart stirs and God-given nudges are filled with purpose.
Even if we don't see the purpose until three years later, or ever.
Several years ago Donny began his battle with cancer, and three years ago he went to be with the Lord. It was one of those situations where my heart broke for his family, and especially his sister, Cynthia. It was one of those awkward situations where I wanted to help in someway, but it had been years since we had even spoken, so I didn't really know what to do.
So I sent a card. I wrote words that I could probably never say face-to-face (because I am bad at getting real in real-life).
Today Cynthia posted this on her Facebook page:
This is the card that I sent three years ago, worn from three years of being carried in a purse..."To remind me that I am never alone, to remind me to step out for other people, to remind me that there are people praying for you and considering you and you would never even know it."
Seeing this and reading Cynthia's words was humbling and encouraging at the same time.
You see, lately I have been feeling worn. I've been working really hard at a lot of things. I have grown tired; tired of trying to give my best all the time and often failing, tired of trying to go above and beyond, tired of never feeling like enough, and especially tired of feeling like none of these things make a difference.
Today the encouragement came full circle, and when I needed it the most Cynthia reminded me that the little things do matter. Prayers and kind words make a difference. I was reminded that God is in the small things, and that heart stirs and God-given nudges are filled with purpose.
Even if we don't see the purpose until three years later, or ever.
2 comments:
Wow that's amazing. and what a reminder that our words matter!
Your words are so very true. Little do we know the impact of our small actions and seemingly insignificant words. But these are all being counted up and stored and some day we will know the full extent of what we meant to someone else.
I've often heard the saying (I'm paraphrasing) that we can't save the whole world but to that one person we are trying to help, we may be their whole world.
May you be encouraged. (Gal 6:9)
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