A few summers ago, my son, Mark, was working at a family camp. While the mountains were breathtaking, the friends were plentiful, and the food was every teenager’s dream, he missed home. Not horribly – but just enough to tug on the vulnerable places of his heart.
I knew he needed some sweet comfort from home. So, I packaged up some things he needed and a few things that I simply knew would make him happy and sent my gift of love.
After a few days, I kept wondering when I’d get a text message from him with smiles and thank you’s and “wow – you’re the best mom ever.” A girl can dream right?
But no text message came.
Each day that went by I got more and more frustrated by his lack of acknowledgement of my gift. Then I started to wonder if he’d ever even received it. So, I had Art, my non-emotional husband, call because he could simply ask, “Did you get the package from mom?”
And Mark simply said, “Oh yeah, I did get a box from mom but I haven’t opened it yet.”
Hunh? Who gets a gift of love packaged up and sent to them and doesn’t even take the time to open it?
But the Holy Spirit has been showing me that sometimes I do the exact same thing to the Lord. Ouch. You can read more of my post over at (in)courage today here.