I was given two gifts this Christmas that cannot be weighed. First, a flight to visit my family over two thousand miles away. There is a thing or two you should know about the Mallett home: it is saturated in warmth and light, food and wine, teasing and laughter, wisdom and beauty. Whether slurping Father’s Thai soup or nibbling Mother’s whipped shortbread, we shared many a conversation that reached the heights of a kite one moment and the depths of an anchor the next. We bantered over boardgames, ate late, woke late, played more boardgames, and throughout it all cached many more bright memories next to those already cherished (these newest including additions to the family, such as the seriously edible and ever-smiling Clara-Beara).
Yes, gifted with my family. And gifted, unexpectedly, with clarity of sight. Curled up on the couch against my husband’s chest, studying my loved ones, I suddenly saw them as God sees them. It was excruciating.
When Nicholas noted the tears glittering in my eyes, he took my hand and whisked me away to the refuge of our bedroom, where I found myself dissolving into weeping on his shoulder. I cannot remember the last time I cried with such intensity. But my heart was twisting, twisting, for just as I saw their souls as God sees them—in all their childlike beauty—I also saw how I have failed to love them as He loves them.
My poor husband—he held me close, murmuring sweet consolations that did not ease my tears. And then I began to laugh, nearly as deeply as I was crying, for even then, in my poverty, the Lord was gifting me with love. I remembered that He sees my soul just as I saw the souls of my loved ones.
I emerged from the bedroom, puffy-eyed and grinning, ready to play another boardgame with my beautiful, baffled family. I don’t think they understood any more than my husband did, this strange, seemingly random, spiritual experience. But not strange or random to me. Even now, I admit, tears are pricking my eyes, for the gifts that mean the most are truly those that are unexpected but just what you needed.
Thank you, Denise, for this beautiful passage. Oftentimes, the depths of one’s soul is understood not by words but by physical expression. Tears are a gift. They may hurt, heal, love, etc. God knew that you were ready to fully experience this particular beauty. He has more in store for you. Much more…
May He continue to bless you richly.
You and your family are prayed for in my daily rosary. For the tears and the laughter. God Bless
I love you, sister. Would that I could love you more, also.