A Mailman’s Secret to a Wonderful Life: J.O.Y.
When you are 22, you underestimate the post office man. High on the aurora of your independence, you don’t realize you’re forging a lifelong bond with an elderly man who calls his office “The Pickle Jar.” Roger ran the post office at my seminary. I had arrived in love with Martin Luther and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, young in Jesus’ unconditional arms, confidently expecting the three best years of my life. I was correct. But I had no concept of great littleness, of God’s preference for bread over flourish. I had imagined that moments came in vestments and goblets, hymns and heights. They did, of course, and they filled my table until the legs collapsed in laughter. Lectures lit my canyon. Conversations flooded my […]
A Mailman’s Secret to a Wonderful Life: J.O.Y. Read More »