Words
The little purple flowers upon the stamp, upon the envelope, was telltale that something good was within. Little purple flowers noted upon my pathways always seem to refresh.
Receiving encouragement from someone I’ve never met, brought comfort as the letter landed in my mailbox at just the right time. The writer must be a little purple flower herself as she dropped calming lavender scent within the words upon the page—life giving words—just like His Word.
As I tore open the envelope, a sticker upon it read, “Grateful/Blessed.” Indeed, I was. Upon the card were penned these words.
Lord, teach me the art of gentleness—
in a world of blaring car horns—furious voices and grieved souls.
May I offer softness to strangers—
and to the people I know—the same tenderness You’ve shown me.
Not harsh, rushed or callous—
You’re filled with compassion and perfect love.
When tempers start to rise and muscles begin to tense,
when anger flares in peoples’ eyes—
let my presence bring a quietness—
Your light—warming hearts—Your peace flowing in my words.
In Jesus name, Amen.
I do not know if she was the author. I only know the words were written upon the card and I received them. I will write back and ask her, but it will take time, and I will learn in due time. The gentle response of wait time—is sacred.
There is a trust which ebbs and flows between this letter writers. Once a letter is sent, in due season, one is returned. And that’s how it goes. It’s God’s perfect timing.
Often, with angst to know just how things will go, we poke and prod and think it odd that our inner swirling of gut wrenching wait time should not be a part of our portion. It’s as if we think God is withholding from us the goods and somehow, in our lack of trust, wait time can become take it into my own hands time.
Just this month, with no clear answers about a medical concern, we were put on hold. As one appointment fell through after another, calm was nowhere on the radar. A few phone calls later, that which looked like hope—also fell through. Despair was in the air. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an appointment was gifted for the very next day! As we left that appointment, the next specialist needed to be seen opened their door right then and there. The two to three months wait morphed into a two-or three-day deal and in the end, it was all good news.
Good News is just that. It’s announced. It’s received. The wait time is all in His time—and in this I trust and this I must for He alone is God and I am not. Amen.
Kathleen Kjolhaug
This article was first published in Theology in the Trenches, a column written by Kathleen Kjolhaug. Posted with permission. Read more articles on her blog, Theology in the Trenches.
