I Keep a Grilled Cheese on My Desk

 

Today, I got into my office, unpacked my computer, and started rushing around trying to settle in after a long weekend and a late start after several more biopsies this morning….that went well but left me unexpectedly emotional….

Then I saw my grilled cheese.

I stopped…took a deep breath…and felt mom’s love and prayers across the miles. And suddenly my breath caught and my eyes filled.

Years ago, when I was in college and adjusting to life after being homeschooled, there were moments when I just needed my mom. In those moments, despite the hour or the rules, there she was.

A grilled cheese sandwich.

A hug.

And a prayer.

Nothing fancy. Just exactly what I needed.

Now I live far away, and my grilled cheese isn’t nearly as tasty. 😂 It sits on my desk in the little box she mailed it in, along with her note:

“You will have to use this with my love. So proud of you. Love you bunches, Mom.”

And I do.

Because that little fake grilled cheese reminds me that there has never been a season of my life when I haven’t been covered by my mother’s prayers.

Even from hundreds of miles away.

Even when she can’t show up at my door with a hot sandwich.

I can look over at my desk and remember:

I am loved.

I am prayed for.

And somewhere far away, my mom is still, in her own way, making me a grilled cheese. ❤️