A few weeks ago, when I went out to the mailbox to get the mail, tucked between the credit card offers and the bills, there was a letter. It was an actual handwritten letter on real paper. I hadn’t received one of those in a very long time. I get lots of emails each week and text messages every day, but a handwritten letter is pretty rare and I felt honored to have one in my hands.
I started thinking about letters that I have saved over the years; love letters from my husband, special cards from friends, and summer camp postcards from the kids. I have a box of letters my dad wrote home to his parents during WWII. Those 965 yellowed pages tell an amazing story and are so precious to me. I don’t get too nostalgic deleting old emails or texts, but there’s just something about hand-written letters that seems worth preserving.
Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “You are a letter from Christ, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the Living God.” We are letters to those around us, meant to be personal and with a story to share. I expect some days I am more like junk mail, delivering my bad mood or selfishness to those around me. Other days I may be more like an annoying unpaid bill, pointing out what someone owes me or keeping track of others’ wrongs. Sometimes I’m short and hurried and come off as an impersonal text or email.
Jesus wants us to be the letters; the special, personal, keepsake-type. Like it or not, we are “known and read by everybody” (2 Corinthians 3:2). So, it really does matter what kind of message we are delivering.