Letters
Dear Ones,
And so the letter begins….down through the ages. We have an inherent need to share our thoughts, our desires and our lives through the written word. From letters written from those in the ‘old’ country to diaries, journals and quick notes.
Yesterday a paper, covered with hearts, fluttered down from its home magnet on the refrigerator. My first thought was to throw it away. I re-read it. “Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you, Anna” was scrawled across the sheet in Anna’s distinctive handwriting. It was more than the message or the sender, but it was the thoughts that were invoked when I held the small piece of paper. I pictured my trip to California, the hospitality of Anna and her family, the wedding of our granddaughter and many hugs. Maybe later I can throw it away.
I am happy that no one threw away the many entries my Grandmother Suderman made long ago. I will not throw away the ‘Dear Poppa’ letters that Mother wrote Dad after he died. There is nothing of value or historical value except the heart-prints of loved ones as they walked this earth.
Imagine my surprise when I found a record of my Mother’s birth from her Momma on a card written in 1962:
My dear daughter, 55 years ago we celebrated, it was a hot day, the telephone was off, because it was a holiday. But you came early that morning, arriving at 8 a.m. Daddy stayed at home that day, did not go out to work. That evening when the telephone came on, he called those that should know about it. John Litke worked for us that harvest and the wheat was finished the afternoon of the 3rd. John was the one to go get Mrs. Eitzen, Papa got Grandma Suderman and (then) we had 2 little girls. I’ve always been glad for you both. (Would have been so nice to have the two boys) But God’s will was different. He’s made it alright. Thanks for the visit, and you know I did not think of your birthday when you were here. Nice warm weather today. Have a good time and keep well.
Love from Momma
When we moved from New Harmony, Indiana, my husband confessed to me that he burned all his letters written to me before we were married. The precious words, hand written, told me of his love, and now they were ashes. I loved those letters, and now they were gone and I cried. But his love has endured without the yellowed letters. When I was ten years old, I remember finding a box of letters written to Mom by my Dad. I whooped and hollered as I read expressions of love in those letters, never imagining they could have such thoughts. Dad even wrote love poems to Mom.
Perhaps that is why our storage areas are filled with letters from our parents and emails from our children. How can we throw away a card or an email that attests their love. Or sometimes a memory that we shared so long ago. After our children became parents, we received missives that told of their love and appreciation of us as parents, no matter what had gone before. One son sends an email every day sharing his life. Another sends $5 to get a Dairy Queen treat – he remembers. Another son has memories of what he learned when he lived at hom, and our daughter begins every email with, “Dear Mommy and Daddy,” She again becomes our little girl.
Letters usually bring good news, but sometimes the words bite and tear into our hearts. It takes days to recuperate from a hurtful piece of mail. And then it is time to evaluate the heart and pray. Whereas, good news is to be shared and sad news calls for prayer. The power of words to encourage is phenomenal. When I receive a thank you note, the words create a warmness of emotion in my inner being. When we take the time to thank others we follow Ephesians 1:16 – I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.
It takes a village to raise a child? I say that it takes a village to mail a letter. Being the daughter, a sister and a mother of three mailmen in my family, I see how hard they worked. So many details, rules, regulations to learn and follow. The price of the stamp for first class has risen steadily from two or three cents to the current two digit price. (It may change!) The sorting, the machine stamping vs the hand stamping, piles and piles of letters that need to reach the correct destination. Gone are the days of waiting 2 or 3 weeks for a letter to arrive by pony express or hand carried.
The immediacy of communication in this century surrounds us at every side with Blogs, Facebook, Emails or the mighty Blackberry, besides the handwritten variety. News through internet and the television assaults us on every hand. Communication is King.
One communication form that is timeless contains letters from the Apostle Paul. As I read the salutations and the closings of his letters to the Christians in Rome, Corinth, Ephesus and Philippi, my mind tries to picture Paul penning a letter in his jail cell. Did he know the power of his writing through the Holy Spirit and the far-reaching words that would affect people 2000 years later? Did he have a governmental means of delivery? We know the answer to that. There was no assurance that his letter would be delivered to the intended readers. And we have his words that encourage us and make us re-evaluate our lives in terms of how we follow Christ!
Paul begins nearly every letter by re-iterating WHO he is in Christ — a servant. His purpose and focus is clear, not only for the letter but for identifying himself with Christ. He often ends a letter with last minute directives, even as a mother might who is preparing to leave her children with a baby sitter. He closes I Corinthians in the 16th chapter is the way I will close this blog…
I, Paul, write this greeting in my own hand. If anyone does not love the Lord—a curse be on him. Come, O Lord! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with you. My love to all of you in Christ Jesus. Amen.