The cooler sat on our front porch with a note… our Sunday dinner delivered by a friend. As I pulled off the lid and began to lift food out, the tears fell freely. It seemed I would never stop reaching in and pulling more out. All this food, such a blessing…
And not just today. Four days a week there is someone at our door bringing piles of food, enough that we have leftovers twice a week.
Then there’s the mailbox. Every day there’s a new letter, a word of encouragement in our fight, a picture drawn by the hand of a budding artist, a gift card for music or books or more food.
The knocks at the door… brown paper packages sealed with cellophane tape. Gifts for us. Or flowers delivered.
Concert tickets for us to double date with friends.
The piles of paper products on our front porch. The visits from friends bearing Starbucks or Chik-fil-A or Mr. J’s or just baring their hearts and allowing me to do the same.
The flowers planted and weeds pulled and garden harvested and house cleaned and errands run.
The play dates for our children, giving them the summer I could not. A summer full of bike rides and river play and nature walks and library runs.
Then there’s the Facebook posts and emails and messages and voicemails.
And there are the prayers. Countless prayers.
In all of this, I’m sure there is something I’ve still missed.
How do I even say “thank you”? Where do I begin? How do I even express?
If I filled my blog with words of thanks… if I spilled my eyes with tears until God calls me home… if I wrote notes to every person, pouring words from ink until my fingers bleed..if I said the words in person to each of you, it still would not be enough.
You have given to us so freely. So much more than we need.
We are humbled.
We are grateful.
We are loved.
Of that we are certain.
And I whisper huskily to all of you, bowing my head through tears, “Thank you.”
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