It was a day of mighty shalom-making. Also known as “a day in which I took care of several areas of chaos that were becoming ridiculous in our home”. The spice cupboard, oh the spice cupboard, needed it’s bi-annual cleaning out and jar-refilling and organizing. The kitchen storage area needed screws to hang up the lunch boxes and brooms and what nots that were taking to spilling across the floor in a slow slide. Kitchen cupboards emptied and cleaned and pilfered through. This all while Henrik methodically moved toys from his trunk to the trash, to the cabinets, to the floor, smiling.
He threw a red-faced squalling tantrum at lunch. I had the gall to take his toy truck away from him as it kept veering deliberately into his potato soup. What followed almost seemed like an experiment in the art of harsh yell-crying. Eruptions of alarm clock-like noises continued for a good twenty minutes. My ears hurt, but my face was all calm; it nearly said it for me, “Child, I’ve raised three other children. You aren’t trying anything new, and I’m just going to wait you out. If you actually think this scene is going to work in your favor, you are going to be disappointed.” He squawked in protest as I just kept offering him soup, giving his indignantly straight legs a reassuring rub, and walking off now and then to attend to my disordered kitchen.
After those ear-splitting minutes had passed I had my sunny, dimpled son chowing down on soup and hiccuping on the remainders of his crying fit. Boy he slept good during his afternoon nap.
This was my day. That and washing poo out of four diapers, making two meals, doing laundry, and such. That and a nap on the couch and two slices of Nutella-smeared bread and bathing Henrik in the kitchen sink. An ordinary day until the mail came.
A card, no return address, no signature, simply these words:
Because God loves you and is very close to your heart. Much love from a sister in Christ.
Those words and one hundred dollars.
My eyes brimmed, as they are wont to do, and my thoughts spun. Who? Wow! Oh! Awwww. That’s the thing isn’t it? About an anonymous gift? You just sort of mouth “thank you” to the air hoping that the giver feels the joy and gratitude from your heart.
I don’t know what is more touching, that someone parted with such a weighty gift on my behalf or that just a few days ago someone was thinking of me and wrote words to me to bless my spirit. It all is a bit wild and surreal and delightful.
So…if the giver happens to see these words, thank you. You brought a whole lot of incredulous joy to my heart today.