It takes my breath away for just a moment, there in my inbox, the subject line without any brackets so it looks like it’s a personal message. Just for me. It isn’t. It’s a blog title without any brackets.
And it’s a beautiful entry, as always. Beautiful and meant for all of us.
I stifle the disappointment and tell myself those same things, things I hate hearing but know to be true. Things like it isn’t about me, and to remember the big picture, and that God knows my heart and that’s all that matters. And that I should be ashamed for wanting something more personal.
I wonder if anyone will ever feel that kind of happiness when she sees my name her inbox. I wonder if my offerings will ever disappoint when the brackets show.
I want to stay personal. I want those for whom I write to know they matter to me. No. I want her to know she matters to me. It isn’t about me, but I want it to be about her.
I want to keep loving those beautiful women who write for all of us, even when they don’t know I exist. Because they are reaching hearts just like I long to do, touching lives and making a difference and bringing smiles to faces of beautiful women who really need them. All faces just like mine.