This snowy morning I read Mosaic of the Nativity as I sat before the fire, steaming coffee beside me. So much described in so few words.
Tree lit and sun arising, the house was quiet but for Doug working already in his study upstairs. I imagined him also with fireplace lit, window open to the sunny mountains, personal reading set aside, now moved into the rhythms of his own day.
Yesterday, He and the girls executed a lovely birthday for me, as always. I have trouble (am uncomfortable and awkward) receiving, am more comfortable giving, and thus am typically glad when my birthday has drawn to an end. I have real trouble receiving.
As I began to drift to sleep after a very full day, he, sitting beside me, said that I hadnt read my card. I hadnt. Hadnt even seen it, honestly. He had placed it at my sink so that I might find it as I got ready for bed.
He retrieved it and replaced himself beside me, holding it out for me to read. Told me "a birthday card isnt fun to read the day after the birthday." I giggled agreeingly.
Within his handmade card, I read his handwritten words:
"This year I want to wish you not just a happy birthday. Instead I speak this blessing over you:
May God bless you in the year of life ahead.
May the purposes of your life be made more sure.
May you experience amazing things that go beyond belief.
May you grown in both Grace and Truth.
May the paths that you walk become places for others to follow.
And may you run unencumbered in the Joy that is yours.
I thank God for your life and for another year.
With great love and amazement,
I wish that I could feel these words. This morning I think back to them and try to wrap them into the folds of my heart. I wonder if a blessing is meant to be felt, or if it is rather to be heard and pondered, remembered and held? Or is that to feel it, afterall?
I write this today to admit that if feeling love in a way I never have, not just being able to forgive and exhibit it to others, is part of my healing journey, I am not there yet. I think my husbands words reflect that, as he knows me in a way that no one else does. I see something that resembles pain when he watches me stretch and contort myself to get through the spaces of the day of my birth.
So instead of thinking it through too much, I am instead trusting, am asking, the Lord to work as He sees fit, for His best for me. He has Redeemed so much already. I will trust Him to make me whole so that one day, when I hear HIS words, I will fully be able to receive.