These arrived in the mail. No return address. No name. Just thoughtfulness, wrapped up in brown paper and addressed to me.

Can I try to explain what it meant to open an anonymous package of love? How special I felt? How cared for? That someone would take the time to pick these out, stick a stamp on them, and drop them in the mailbox. For me.

When I pull one of these beautiful knitted dishcloths out of my kitchen cupboard, when I drop it in the hot soapy water and wring it and when I wipe it across those dirty cups and bowls and glasses, I say a prayer. I say a prayer of thankfulness for the sweet soul who sent this love my way, and I ask God to bless her day.

This is how I make meaning out of ordinary. I pray for it to be more than it is. The dishcloths. The laundry. The dirty kitchen floor. I thank Him for the ones I love who make the messes. I thank Him for the ones who will wear the clean clothes, who will walk the floor, who will sleep between the clean sheets. I’m thankful for the place each holds in my heart.

And in my home, with the dishcloths and the I love you Mom taped inside the kitchen cupboard door and the cousin-painted picture hanging on my wall, with these things to remind me, I am blessed.

May we find the meanings in our ordinaries, Friends.

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