A care package from my Growth Group back in San Diego has arrived just in time. Jamie masterminded the whole thing—have I mentioned what an incredibly generous friend she is to me?—and I’m in awe of how loved we are.
The package includes:
- Notes from the girls—some on pretty stationary, one with a hand-drawn pepperoncini on the bottom since we always have a Costco jar of pepperoncinis at our gatherings, one written in hot pink pen on a napkin
- A photo with a handwritten note on the back
- A flyer from a found art exhibit at an art show by the Bay
- A Thomas shirt and bathtub toys for Luke
- A princess starter kit for Lane, along with the cutest chocolate brown corduroy bloomers ever and a little outfit on a miniature hanger for one of her dollies
- Magazines for “inspiration” and “creativity” (including People, Real Simple, the Pottery Barn catalog, and a Writer’s Digest pub)
- A flower hair clip for me and one for Lane
- Perfectly pale pink nail polish
- A mix CD that includes El Shadai from Amy Grant, if you can stand it
- Archer Farms Tex Mex trail mix from Target . . . one of my personal favorites
- A beautiful hardback journal with swallows on the front—in a signature turquoise and green pallet
- A novel
- Sour Patch Kids
- And all this crazy love spilling out on random sticky notes and scraps of paper
And once again, I am cared for by this band of Gypsies . . . mind, body, and soul.
Just about once a week I get a video of the girls when they all get together. Some of it is them saying hi to me, but mostly it’s just a couple trips around the table so I can see them and be with them—laughing, eating, talking, being together. Mostly it’s just them letting me know I’m still a part of them and they are still a part of me.
I was really moved by the response I received from my last post. Clearly, some of you are struggling with that stuck feeling, too, and you needed to hear that Emmanuel might in his own way be coming to thee. Not necessarily to change your life but to keep you company while you’re living it.
I didn’t realize when I wrote those words in that post that Emmanuel would be coming to me in the form of a care package. Christ in the bread and wine of Sour Patch Kids, the sacrament of Target Tex Mex. Christ scrawled on napkins. Christ in a cardboard box. (Who says you shouldn’t put God in a box?)
I am believing that some kind of care package could arrive for you today, too. And that it would nourish you as you need to be nourished.
All my love.