Conversation Hearts - God's Whisper

I missed Logan. For our crew, Valentine’s Day was full of fun stuff. The boys hand cut cards. Pink milk in the morning. Dinner at night. We had heart-shaped ornaments and a red foil sign that stretched across the dining room arch. Logan is big on tradition, and that’s probably why I missed him so.

When he was a little guy, Logan started buying conversation hearts. One box each -for his brothers, Lonny, grandparents, and me. I think he used his tooth fairy money, way back then. But he held the tradition as he grew, and every year, the little guys waited for their boxes. But this year Logan was away at school. No treats from Big Brother. It made my mama-heart hurt.

Lord, I miss him. It’s tough, I prayed. But the longing continued.

The boys and I went about our stuff, making preparations, enjoying the day. But my thoughts wandered back to Logan. I wondered what he was doing. What his evening would look like. I hoped that in between our busy and his class and work schedule, there would be a sliver of a moment to make a call.

In the afternoon, the boys and I decided to take a walk along the river while the spaghetti sauce simmered. As we passed the mailbox, Zay noticed that the yellow flag was poked high – the “inbox”. He stood on toes, pulled the box open, and plunged his hand inside.

He withdrew a manila envelope. Logan’s handwriting. Addressed to his family. But the sweetest part? The envelope made noise. Rattling. Rumbling.

Conversation hearts.

“He remembered,” Zay shouted. “It’s from Logan! It’s the hearts!

My own joy rivaled Isaiah's. And for just a minute, beside the mailbox watching my sons delight over the package, I felt like Hagar when she understood that God had seen her. A stretch in circumstances, for sure. Hagar in the desert, alone, distressed, visited by an angel, pregnant with  a son, and me standing in the snow, missing mine. But the same God had looked down – deep into a mother's heart.

Zay couldn’t wait to tear into the package of candy with sweet messages …Hugs, Love, Kisses, Be Mine.

But for me, the package whispered something different. Something from God.

I saw. I heard. I listened.

And I love you.

Prayer: Precious, intimate Father, I love your name! El Roi, the God who see me.