The other day, I was thinking about something a relative told me about my life....that I needed to simplify. I had searched what to drop....cannot drop my family events (kids are each in 1 activity right now and I think it's good for them to be involved in something that develops their talents further and gives them an opportunity to grow); cannot drop my calling (I would be scared of what would be left of myself since everytime I give of myself, I find so much more than what was before); cannot drop the housekeeping (that's just too gross to contemplate); so I guess I could just tell the missionaries next time they called that I cannot go with them to visit a new convert when they ask me to accompany them to their visit. I was almost set on that course of action....when later that day, I heard a knock at my door. I looked out the window in the upstairs playroom and saw a grey truck. I didn't recognize it, so I made sure to walk quietly down the stairs so that whoever was standing behind the door wouldn't hear me and know someone was home when I didn't open the door.
I peeked through the peephole and saw two young men dressed in white shirts and ties with a black plaque. I quickly unlatched the door and greeted them with a smile.
They said that they just wanted to hand me a letter. Spoke briefly about the family with whom I accompanied them on their visit, and left.
Once the door was closed and re-latched, I opened the card. It was a few lines of thanks for always being willing to join them on a visit with an investigator or recent convert. They were so appreciative and wanted to let me know it mattered.
That meant so much to me. It meant that God had heard the thoughts of my heart. He understood my efforts to simplify and desire to do the best things with my time. I was so grateful for that little card that the missionaries took the time to write and hand deliver.
It meant more than they will probably ever know.
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