The word is mail
//When All You Have Left is Mail
I sat across the table and we sipped coffee. Mine was laced with cinnamon. Of all the times I've been to that small café this is the first time I added cinnamon. I chose the small round table across the room near the window. I was always invited to choose.
As we sat and talked I found myself keenly aware of details such as the sound of his voice, the contour of his face and the intent of his words. The comfortability of being in his own skin made it easy for me to do the same. Often in the past a few would come in he knew and I would have to share the time. I found myself grateful to have exclusivity.
What has this to do with mail? I was preparing myself for his departure. I will be relying now solely on e-mail from this time forth. Now instead of interpreting his voice, his body language and his facial expressions, I will be left with the white space between the words keyed onto a computer screen. Our relationship, however, has been established. Some things I won't have to figure out. I will know, because I know him.//
It makes me think of the Bible, God's letter to us. He chose to give us mail before seeing his face. If I have a relationship with Him through His word when I see Him I will know Him so much more. His mail to me describes what I need to know now. I will already be His friend. Our relationship will be a continuing one, not one that is fearfully just beginning. Maybe my place in eternity will be by a window away from everyone else for a while. Perhaps I will have exclusivity with Him alone. He lets me choose it while I am here and I will know it when I arrive. He is a gentleman, just like my friend.
What will I remember about my last encounter? More than the cinnamon.