This post is part of my 31 days of Love Letters series. Click here to see the rest of the posts in the series.
Dear People (you know who you are),
I love you. As this is being published, Kathryn is chauffeuring my very sedated self to and from surgery and then to the pharmacy to pick up the good stuff that’ll keep me sleeping on her couch for the rest of the day. Jennifer is changing the sheets on the bed upstairs where I’ll sleep this afternoon, despite having three little ones of her own to take care of. Chelsea is working, but later she’ll come home and make me a smoothie and tuck me into my bed, where I’ll sleep until Tori comes to pick me up and care for me all day tomorrow.
Y’all. I have the best people. You even suggested I try to write a blog while drugged up, but I decided to go ahead and schedule this one in advance (tomorrow is anyone’s game, though).
You guys have lined up to come over and watch movies, bring me milkshakes, and check in regularly and really, I’m just having my wisdom teeth out. I do not deserve such love and service, but I am so thankful.
I love that I can send out a quick text asking for help and you’d be over here before you even asked what I needed help with. I love how well you pray for me and care for me, how well you know me and love me anyway.
I love that Caroline threw me a 101st quarter birthday party this year because we’re never together for my actually birthday. I love that she knew me well enough to put jelly beans on the cake instead of chocolate. I love how thoughtful she is, how thoughtful all of you are.
I love knowing and loving you too. I love that I get to be your people right back, even though I’m not always the best at it. I love the ways you have shown me how to forgive and how to combat sin in relationship with one another. I think that’s rare, and I love that I have so many people who I am comfortable loving in such a way.
I cannot imagine life without all of you, and I don’t want to.
It would be my greatest honor and joy to be able to love you all the way up to heaven. In Anne Lamott’s book Stitches, she talks about how we’re all just walking each other home.
I love walking with you. Thank you for walking with me.