INSPIRASUNS

We spent some time this weekend putting up the Christmas decor.  Like many in SW Florida, our decorations are kept in a storage unit as these keepsakes would not do well stored in the summer heat of our garage.  Judging by the “traffic” at the unit, we weren’t the only ones decorating this weekend. We all laughed as we made our way with carts up and down the elevators, passing each other saying, “Tis the Season’.

About this time last year I shared in this little blog the story of the little Christmas angel I painted when I was a child. It’s been with me forever, and she appears every year at Christmas. Yesterday I pulled her out of the box and decided not to set her out. Instead, I wrapped her carefully and placed her in a ziplock bag to keep her dust-free. I was headed back downstairs to put her away with some other things and got sidetracked. I bent over to pick something up from the floor and in just that instant had forgotten that the ziplock was tucked under my arm.  That’s when I heard it…the horrible crack as the bag hit our tile floor.  I instantly knew that I had not only dropped but broken my little angel. I’m not quite sure I can describe the feelings that were running through me at that moment, and I believe a few expletives from my mouth, and yes, the tears came to my eyes. So many memories flooded my mind.  After opening the bag and confirming my fears, all I could do was gently wrap her again and place her in the box.  I spent the next hour or so “mourning” my little angel, as we continued to set out decorations.  I guess that sounds silly but I was sad, very sad.

My husband and I made a return trip to storage to drop off empties and pick up the last few boxes there.  As I was driving back home, thinking about that angel, I remembered a text my brother had sent to me a few days ago.  My sister-in-law found a small Bible in a box in the basement. It was a pocket Bible I had given to my mom when I was little. Judging by the handwriting inside the cover, I would guess it was probably right around the time that I painted that little angel. I had written inside the cover, “To mom, from Kimberley. Please carry it with you always”. I have to admit, I don’t remember giving this gift to Mom, but she obviously kept it.  My brother had asked if I wanted him to send it to me or just wait until we saw each other again.  I had told him to hold on to it, that we were arranging a time to be with the kids and one of them could bring it with them.

When I got home from the storage unit, I texted my brother and asked him to please send the Bible to me. I felt the need to have it close.  I also think the timing of that little Bible being found wasn’t a coincidence.  Jesus heals and gives hope in so many ways. The pain I felt when my little angel broke is being healed by the love I feel looking at that little Bible.

Friends, if you have challenges or situations in your life that are causing pain, know that Jesus is there to heal and give hope. Just open your heart and let Him in.

Have a wonderful day!

Romans 15:13
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.