(Case in point, my pastor's wife once lavished us with a chicken pot pie that was so delicious I wanted to cry when I ate it. Mind you, I had just had a baby, so crying was my typical response to most everything. The baby yawned? A car commercial showed a toddler growing up into a teenager? My printer ran out of paper? All perfectly legitimate reasons to cry.)
At any rate, receiving a meal is one way I've felt loved, so I find myself trying to love others in this way, too. After I dropped off the meal and hugged my friend, I prodded my kids back into our minivan, backed down her driveway, and then proceeded to crash into her mailbox.
Because nothing says, "I'd like to bless you and make your day easier" than inflicting damage to someone's personal property. Essentially, it was a mailbox beheading.
With the mailbox cradled in my arms, I walked up the driveway to her house and rang her doorbell for the second time, holding the mailbox out like a bizarre second offering. See? Just a few minutes ago I gave you lasagna. Now I have a mailbox for you. Surprise!
Her graciousness was astounding, and she shared multiple stories of driveway and mailbox woe. Her husband had run down the mailbox before, too. A separate time, their car inexplicably had drifted down the steep driveway overnight, and they woke to find it in their flower bed below. "It's the Bermuda Triangle of driveways!" she reassured me, mentioning that it would be an easy fix.
There we were, two friends, both trying to make the best of damaged situations, and it struck me as terribly ironic and oddly comical and wonderfully reassuring all at once. Somehow, in the midst of all that had just gone wrong, we were finding ways to remember what still was right.
Any given day, it's easy to focus on the what's gone wrong, but I want to be a person who pauses and recalls what's right.
That day, my kids and I didn't get stranded, keyless, in the Sam's Club parking lot. I didn't need to awkwardly contact the Salvation Army and ask them to return my accidental donation. Even better, I didn't need to dumpster-dive headfirst into a donation box. That situation could have gone so wrong, but look how right it went!
Unfortunately, some days you crash into your friend's mailbox when you're trying to make her day better.
Thankfully, more often than not, we miss the mailbox.
Enjoy a dose of humor, hope, and encouragement for moms with Then I Became a Mother. Both Kindle and paperback editions currently are on sale!
"Hilarious and spot-on!" Jennifer Wiles Mullen, Mosaic of Moms.
"The perfect read for those days that you wonder if you're doing anything right." Amazon Review.
Image adapted from marymuses (flickr.com)