Sunday, June 20, 2010
Lead Me to the Cross
It was Friday. After work I stopped by the post office on my way home to pick up mail. I quickly glanced through the stack of envelopes looking for freebies, no freebies that day. Instead a small envelope caught my attention, because I didn’t recognize the name or address in the upper left corner of the envelope. “It looks like someone sent us a card,” I thought to myself. “Hmm…I wonder for what occasion we are receiving this card. Father’s Day is coming up, but we don’t have children. Daniel’s Birthday is in July. Well, may be someone just wants to say hello.”
When I arrive home, I once again scanned the outside of the envelope and closely examined the address. The hand writing was hard to read, but I managed to figure out that postmaster must not have seen number 5 in front of the PO Box 6. That explains why she put the letter in our mailbox and not in the mailbox of the intended receiver. I put the letter back in my car with intentions of dropping it by the post office the next day.
On Saturday I had to run a few errands, which made it very convenient to stop by the post office to drop off the letter. Since we live in a small town, I know both of our postmasters. One postmaster works through the week, while another postmaster works on Saturdays.
“Good morning!” I said as soon as I opened the door. “I believe this card belongs to PO Box 56 and not to us. Will you deliver it to the right addressee?”
“That’s our PO Box,” the postmaster replied as she examined the letter. “I know who this card is from. Do you want to hear the story behind this card?”
“Sure” I answered quickly.
“When we attended a church down the Mountain about 4 years ago, we met a young girl (we’ll call her Mary) who was disabled. Her mother and father died and the church took her in and loved on her. Well, Mary always sends us Birthday cards, even if it is not our Birthday. She is a very special girl,” the postmaster said with tears filling her eyes.
“Thank you for sharing with me,” I said to the postmaster as I turned around and started to walk towards the door. It was hard for me to keep my tears back, since God definitely blessed me with extra emotions.
A young girl, Mary, has blessed me without even knowing it, the day I received a stranger’s card. How kind was it of her to remember a couple who no longer attended her church and send a card letting them know that she was thinking of them. This brought a scripture to my mind of Phil 1:3 “I thank my God every time I remember you”. What if we all looked at Mary as an example of a carrying Christian? What if every time the Lord placed someone on our mind, we would lift that person up in prayer and send a note of encouragement? We too, just like a young girl Mary, would be a walking testimony of Christ like love.