jimtheyouthguy

Yesterday was our 25th wedding anniversary.  We have returned to St. Augustine to the same Bed & Breakfast in which we honeymooned.  It has changed (both the Old City and the B&B).  A lot.

So have we.

I am not the same man I was when we got married.  That’s a good thing.  He was arrogant, inexperienced, self-indulgent and self-absorbed – not real good husband material.  I’ve grown up quite a bit since then (as opposed to “grown old”).

My wife’s not the same girl I married either.  In fact, we have each gone through many stages and changes in our lives.  Some of the changes are so profound, it’s like becoming a whole new person.

I’ve loved every person she has become over the years.  I’m excited to meet who she will become next.

She’s amazing!

Back in March, 2012, I attended my uncle’s funeral.  Because of some things I heard and saw there, I took up letter writing – as in pen, paper, stamp, envelope and writer’s cramp.  (Read the details here ... )

Write to whom?

Not counting inmates (I write to anywhere between 3 and 7 people that are incarcerated at any given time), I have written 20 to 25 different people.  Many of them only once (especially the international ones (a global stamp costs $1.10)), but some of them numerous times.  I haven’t kept an official tally, but it is well over 120 letters.

To date (again, excluding inmates) I have received a total of 5 letters from 3 different people.  Mostly I get no response.  Occasionally I get an email response.  Sometimes I get a, “Hey, I got your letter” in a subsequent encounter.  Once I got a book.

The email responses are interesting.  Here is a typical reaction:

Hey there Jim,

I received your letter last week, and I just want to say thank you very much for it. It’s a very unusual and special thing to get a hand-written-anything these days, as it takes so much more thought and effort than an email (like this one).

It takes me about twice as much time to hand-write a letter as opposed to typing in Microsoft Word.  Sometimes I do type, but mostly I write.  The stamp costs me $.46 unless it is international; then it’s $1.10.  I use whatever envelope is lying around, so some go out in greeting card envelopes, others in a personal sized one and sometimes the good ole number 9 or 10.  I’ve used a 6″X9″ writing pad, composition book, hotel stationary, notebook paper and 8.5″X11″ computer paper.  Usually I use whatever ballpoint pen is handy, but have used a fine point flair a few times and once I used a pencil.

I’ve written to former students, my children, siblings, nieces and nephews, old friends, bloggers, people in grief and a couple of letters praising an employee to their boss.  The average letter is about 300 words, but I’ve sent notes with as few as 20 words and a longer epistle of over 3000 words (that one was typed).

Why do I spend the time and money?

I think it matters.  I think it communicates the value and worth of what is written, but more importantly, I thing it communicates the value and worth of the one to whom it is written.  Just the act of writing and sending a letter says, “You are noticed and you are worth this effort.”

Am I disappointed in the response?

No.

I didn’t really expect anything.

Until someone responds, you never know whether or not they even saw it.  It is nice to have a response with which to interact.  I like letters from my pen pals.  But, even without the interaction, it is worth it.  They are worth it.

Whether it is some wisdom I want to pass on to a former student, an old friend I remembered fondly or a blogger who wrote something that touched my heart, they are all people who have added value to my life.  I think it is important that they know that.

So I write . . .

With my own hand.

I’m a Cubs fan.

As an early adolescent I had the opportunity to see 45 to 50 games in Wrigley Field.  In the years we lived in the Chicago area, they never had a winning record.  Speaking of records, the Cubs were the first to win the World Series in back to back seasons – in 1907 & 08.  That’s about it.  They made a real strong showing through the next 3 decades, but their last pennant win was in 1945.

That was before the lights, so they were all day games.  I saw them play just about everyone at some time or another.  Sometimes attendance would be down a little early in the week, but usually the seats were pretty full.  Cubs fans are loyal – win or lose (and that was usually lose).

My dad could fix anything.

It didn’t start out that way.  He was always mechanically inclined and in the area of electronics, he was well trained by the U.S. Navy.  In fact, in the last couple of years of service, he was an electronics instructor.  But other than electronics, he had to figure it out.

No matter what it was, he would take it apart, make some drawings and then head down to the library.  He’d go through service manuals and repair manuals.  He’d take notes and make more drawings (this is well before photocopiers).  Then he’d come home and fix it.

This meant nothing was really dead in our household.  It could always be made to work just one more time (it also meant that it was hard as the dickens to ever get anything new).  Nothing was ever thrown away.

God continues to demonstrate His love for me.

We’re used to, “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  But this love is not limited to an act of sacrificial love 2000 years ago, or even our “moment of salvation” when we moved from death to life.

God demonstrates His love toward me continually.  With provision in unusual or creative ways (sometimes just plain weird ways), by connection to brothers and sisters in His family or peace in chaotic or troubling circumstances, He shows that not only does He know me, but He notices and actually cares about me.  His love never fails.

I guess that’s why I rarely give up on someone.

God has never given up on me.  No matter how willful, defiant or just plain dumb I can be.  My experience with dad tells me that nothing is ever broken beyond repair.  There is always an opportunity to fix it.  And as a Cub’s fan?  Maybe I’m just not bright enough to know when to give up.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never fails.