“You deserve a longer letter than this; but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve.” - Jane Austen
I've always had a charming scene in my mind where I envision my days at a beautiful old- fashioned secretary, sunlight glowing through the windows, billowy sheer curtains flowing in the breeze. I'd sit and write, sharing ideas and scripture and anecdotes about life with all the friends we've met living and traveling all over the globe. The environment where I write and read is vastly different than that of my imagination, but connecting through letters still nourishes my soul with a depth I crave.
In the age of quick glimpses through facebook and instagram, we may very well be the most connected ever, have the most up to the minute information about one another's lives and yet in all our knowing, lack the intimacy that is at the very core and heart of beautiful friendship.
It has been said that those who write letters, are often the people who may not need to. Meaning, at the very essence of letter writing is a personality that excels at the art of communication. While this is likely true, I stand firmly on the side of the line that believes there is a great need to cultivate this art, and to practice a ministry of connection and encouragement through the written word. As moms at home with little ones or juggling careers and kids, it can be so difficult to find time for a ministry that can touch the hearts of those we know are hurting. Many of us would love to have a "ministry" but we aren't sure how to go about it, or how to make time for it.
What if the very fabric of a beautiful ministry is as simple as the pouring out of my life in a simple offering? What if a ministry of writing letters is the way to reclaim the art of heart connection with souls in my sphere and under my care?
What if we each just wrote a letter today? And perhaps again tomorrow.
I'm actually writing and stamping and mailing a humble offering of paper to touch hearts. I'm trusting that God will give me words to shine light in the darkness of difficult seasons, to pour out in ink the beauty I see in sisters and brothers and families, to be hope and community. In my own places of quiet, may He bring ideas and literature and truth from his Word that can be copied into pages offered up as a meal for the heart to my friends.
Will you join me? Join the movement to love wildly, to reinvent and upend our modern notions of connection? Who in your life needs a lifeline of hope?