I’ve been contemplating this post for some time now. Anyone that knows me knows that I have what may seem as a slight obsession with hearts. My Instagram is jam packed with heart shaped things. My Facebook wall in particular is littered with hearts, as people stumble upon heart shaped oil spots or heart shaped brown spots on fruit they share them with me.
To most people, this heart finding game is silly and probably a bit annoying but to a select few, it’s something divine. Since you have taken a solemn oath to follow this blog I feel that we are now at the point in our relationship that I can share this with you. You my friend are now considered my “select few”.
I’m going to start this story like you don’t know a thing about me, if you have been faithfully reading my posts you have already been filled in on some of these details.
If this starts sounding familiar, sit tight; the story will change.
My mother passed away September 1, 1997. It was the summer/fall between my 4th and 5th grade year. As you can imagine, it was a difficult transition in my life. One moment I was laying in bed asking God to send me a sign that my mom was in Heaven and the next I was smoking my dad’s cigarettes. My life continued on, yet I never quite felt closure over my mother’s passing. Even though he wouldn’t ever admit it I am pretty positive that my dad didn’t either.
In 2000 was the year that I started to find hearts in mud puddles and smudge prints on the bathroom mirror. I decided that the hearts were the signs that I had been asking for. In 2005, after I graduated high school I was finding random heart shaped things more frequently. I quickly found that these incidents weren’t isolated to only me as my cousin Whitney started finding them as well. I had forgotten about my prayers years before and started thinking that since Whitney and I were finding hearts so frequently it became our “thing”. It was so much our “thing” that we even got matching heart tattoos.
In 2013 about a week before I got married I was going through some of my mom’s jewelry because I wanted to wear a pair of her earrings at my wedding. I opened her jewelry box and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was full of necklaces with heart pendants and just about every pair of earrings were hearts.
I started crying. I was elated…and scared. I was elated because I knew that all the years of hearts were exactly what I had prayed for and that was the same reason I was scared.
The hearts meant that God was real.
Like really real.
Like straight up answering prayers real.
Like making hearts appear in unexpected ways real.
From that time on I kind of kept the heart thing to myself. It was an intimate thing with God and my mom. I shared the meaning of the hearts with 2 people. I never went into any details, I would just say that the hearts remind me of my mom and left it at that.
2014 was my biggest year of heart bar none. I would have notifications and text messages from people I didn’t know and numbers that weren’t saved in my phone and the message would always be the same ” I saw this and thought of you” and attached to the message would be a picture of a carrot or strawberry or even a water spot all in the shape of a heart.
Most recently my bestie sent me a picture of a red balloon that was shaped like a heart.
She brought this balloon into work for me. It had lost its owner and I was more than happy to give it a home. I smiled at the balloon and looked at my calendar. I thought to myself that I better grab a cup of coffee before settling in at my computer. I thought nothing more of the balloon that morning until she handed me this note…
My heart ached and leapt for joy at the same time. Tears instantly welled up in my eyes and spilled over the 724,350 coats of mascara that I had just applied. I honestly couldn’t even talk. All I could do was hug her and cry and cry…and cry some more. Finally I pulled myself together enough to thank her. Getting through the rest of the day was a bit difficult, not because I was sad but because I was so enamored of The Lord. How could he love me; someone who I wouldn’t even choose first, so much that He would go out of His way to gain my attention? I know it is the “basic white girl” cliché to say this but I’m going to have to go ahead and proclaim before you and God and everyone that I am blessed BEYOND measure.
Every single picture that has been shared with me has touched my heart. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. If you are a heart sender know that when you sent the picture to me that was the exact moment that I needed to feel Gods love. That was the exact moment that I needed to know that His hand was on me. I really don’t have anything to offer you than my gratitude so thank you for sending heart even when it probably felt weird and thank you for blessing me in my time of need.