Send the Letter

I was unpacking the knick knacks sitting in the trunk of my car today when I found a pack of notecards. I’ve put off unpacking this box because on my long drive home, the books, cords and random piles of things I’d thrown in got strewn all over the car. Despite the many times I’ve moved and cursed myself for this exact thing, it seems history repeats itself.

As I dug through the piles of things, the pack of notecards stuck out to me. These notecards didn’t have any cheesy inscriptions inside wishing people happy birthday or best wishes. They’re the blank kind with art on the front and plenty of white space underneath.

As I tucked them in a drawer I thought to grab one out of the pack before heading downstairs. Because what is the point in having notecards if you never send them to anyone? What is the point of owning a pack of envelopes and cards if you never take the time to put meaning into them? How I use the feeble 6 by 5 piece of paper— that’s what gives the card value.

How many other blank notecards do I have tucked into drawers? The ability to write a song, the ability to run, the ability to sing, to laugh, to play the piano. While much of this sounds like a Hallmark cliche, what were you given today which holds no meaning unless you use it?

My friend Bekah decided this year she would go back to school to get her Master’s in Counseling. It’d been a few years since she’d been in school and her biggest hangup wasn’t the professors, the money or even the books. Her biggest hang up was learning to use a computer again. At the time, I was confused by how such a simple thing could stand in the way of her using her gift of listening and understanding people. How such a tiny thing could keep her from such an important and holy calling.

But six months ago I sat in Nashville with songs I’d poured time and emotion into, unsure if I could move forward because of the same thing. I stared at the computer and gear my boss was letting me, even encouraging me to use and sunk down in defeat. The program? Too complex. The instruments? Too intimidating. I quit before I even tried.

I can now laugh at how parallel to Bekah’s struggle my argument reads. Funny how others can see what we cannot. I once read elephants are afraid of mice (stay with me here). When a mouse runs by them and they can’t keep track of where it went, they either freeze or run away in anxious terror. I let one little thing be the stumbling block for my whole operation.

But what’s the point in a card if it’s never sent to someone?

What gift are you neglecting and leaving on a shelf because there’s a mouse at your feet making you scared? Call the mouse, a mouse and move forward. Today I’m calling a computer, a computer and trying my hardest to move forward.