This evening, after dinner, I was looking for something completely different – isn’t that always the way – when I looked at a Puma shoebox and wondered if there was actually anything inside it, or whether it was just sitting there in this bookcase taking up valuable biblio-real estate. That that question was even viable might tell you more than I’d be comfortable with about how organised my flat is (hint: really not very).
It wasn’t empty. At some point in the past I evidently had a flash of inspiration, collected up a bunch of letters and other paraphernalia, and stored them away in this red shoebox.
I lost perhaps a good half hour looking through these papers; letters, holy cards, paperwork from the Inland Revenue (!), and last but not least, photos. Let’s just say that my aversion to my photo being taken is not by any means a recent phenomenon, and past me had little problem in showing that in facial expressions!
But it’s a joy to be reminded of times past, and even more so to be able to do so having let go of an awful amount of pain and unhappiness. God is faithful, and time heals much.