A HOPEFUL HEART ◽ YOU
Blessings from Heaven
by Christina Oberon
There's a certain kind of honesty that comes from sitting on the floor of your own closet. Just you and whatever you've been storing away. I didn't expect to find anything more than dust and nostalgia that day. But sometimes God uses the most ordinary tasks, cleaning out a closet, to hand us something extraordinary.
Last month, I decided to finally tackle my closet, starting with the boxes of cards and notes I'd saved over the years. I sat on the floor surrounded by them, opening each one, letting myself sink into old memories from family and friends.
When my dad passed away, I was sure I didn't have any cards or letters from him. I'm still not sure why I believed that... maybe because of all the moves over the years, mine and his, especially after he settled in Thailand. I made it through two boxes, and partway into the third, I picked up a card with "For a Special Daughter" on the cover. Assuming it was from my mom, I opened it and immediately recognized my dad's handwriting instead. I felt a pang of excitement realizing it was from him. Inside, written probably ten years earlier, were three words ~ blessings from heaven. Chills ran through my body.
I sat there for a moment, just holding it. At some point with grief, we can feel like we've already found everything we're ever going to find, that the relationship is frozen in whatever state it was left in. But this card reminded me that love doesn't stop revealing itself just because someone is gone. There are still things to discover.
My dad has been gone a year and a half now. Even with the good memories, that corner of my mind still feels quiet, sometimes sad. But finding that card was an unexpected gift, and it was only the beginning. By the time I finished organizing, I had a small stack of cards and letters from him, from before he left Hawaii where I grew up, through his visits over the years to his home country of England, and finally the handmade elephant cards from Thailand, the place he called home until the end.
That afternoon on the floor got me thinking about what it means when someone we love passes on. How every so often, life hands us a moment that stops us mid-breath. Something surreal is experienced that we couldn't have staged or planned, that can only be God's reminder that love doesn't end. It just changes shape, waiting in a closet, a box, in a drawer, or a corner we haven't looked in for a while, for the moment we're ready to find it again.
Psalm 34:18 tells us,
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." I believe that closeness shows up in small, unexpected ways like a scent, a song, a handwritten card at the bottom of a box, timed for the exact moment we need it most. If you're missing someone today, I hope you find your own version of that card. A little treasure to hold onto.