The Mailman And The Resurrection

The Mailman and the Resurrection

I’d never been without a mother, and her loss came so quickly that I’d hardly begun to feel it. The days since her passing were filled with a crazy jumble of emotions, and with a strange emptiness I can’t quite describe. The kindness of friends was wide and deep; the levy of family held strong. But if you asked me for one memory that might just remain with me forever, it would be this.

On a Tuesday, Lee the mailman rang the bell. I met Lee on the first day I moved into my house and often saw him through the window as he delivered mail to the box on my front porch. If I happened to be outside sweeping or raking leaves or stuffing the feeder with birdseed, Lee and I would chat—but unless he had a package to deliver, he seldom rang the bell.

For some reason, on that day he did. I opened the door, and there stood my mailman, holding a handful of grocery-store flyers and one random credit solicitation. “Just wanted to say hi and see your face,” he said, handing me stuff we both knew I’d throw away. “How’s your year going so far?” he asked. “How have you been?” I dumbly shook my head and said, because I couldn’t think what else to say, “My mom died on Sunday.”

Lee rocked back on his feet and cocked his head. He said he was very sorry. I said, “Me, too.” Then he held my gaze with his and said, “But you’ll see her again, right?”

“I will,” I said. “I will.”

He nodded, and we just stood there for a moment—two speechless people who hardly knew anything about each other, except that we agreed on the Resurrection. That’s a big thing to have in common with anyone, including a kind mailman who shares your name.

Did God know I needed a reminder of my mother’s permanence? Maybe. Did the Holy Spirit whisper to the mailman on his daily rounds, “Ring her bell today”? I think he might have. It surely seems so. That day, the rock-solid fact of the Resurrection made the unbearable, bearable. One day, it will make everything new. Even us.

The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

1 Corinthians 15:26