Discarding Thanks & Blessings

          Been diggingthrough all the boxes and bags that we have carried or stored for severalyears… even more. Like a lot of people, I have the pile of thank you notes thatsat in the back of a file cabinet until I boxed them up.  I just tossed them in over the years so Icould pull them out and read through them on those occasions when it’s good tohear… well, an alternative voice than I might have been hearing at that time.There’s a voice of life, right, that seems to be the only one you really hearat different moments.  There’s a voicethat sometimes is telling you you’re great, you got this, your doing well andthere’s a voice that sometimes is telling you, you suck in every waypossible.  And that’s when it’s good tohave this pile of “thank you’s and blessings” in the back of the file drawer.

          Are peoplewho only have email or twitter posts/threads putting away the same kind ofthing in e-files?  Hope so.

          So, anyhow, Iwas digging through a box and discovered a large, stuffed plastic bag filledwith greeting cards, notes and letters. It was worth it to read through them. One thing I learned from them was it didn’t really matter what thesentiment was.  Some of them includedpersonal letters, even two-three page letters. Some were just pretty cards with a signature after the hallmarksentiment.  What I learned was thesentiment – store-bought or personal, long or short – didn’t matter to me asmuch as the signature.  It was that nameat the bottom of the words that meant the most to me.

          Some of thesewere cards and notes and emails (I printed out and saved) that expressedsympathy when my father died.  Some werecards saying good-bye as we moved from one ministry setting to another.  Some were just thanks for acts of care orservice that meant enough to someone they felt compelled to express that.  But all of them bore a signature, a name andit made me thank God.

          This timearound I didn’t keep the majority of them. It feels, after reviewing themagain, for the fourth or fifth time in my life, like I will remember them.  It put me back in touch with moments, facesand names.  It called to mind theimportance of others in my life and why I spent time with them, why it wasworth it to spend time on them.  And, soit was okay to throw them away.

          Discardingthanks and blessings seems a very odd thing to do.  But, after reviewing them once again, I findthey’re integrated into me.  My self hasbeen fed so that it won’t lose the nutrients these expressions have fed intome.  The handful I’m keeping haveparticular connections that others might need to see after I’ve carried themfor a bit more.  But the main point ofthem, I’ve learned, is that they made me thankful, thankful for the ones who lefttheir name.  And that won’t leave me.

          Blessings (they’re all around us),          Geoff