Some people just amaze me.
In a really good way.
Like this friend of mine, let’s call her Dr. Banana.
I met her 8 years ago at a girls bible study I attended before I got married {the same group I helped lead for several years after that}.
She’s the kind of girl who tells the most hilarious {true} stories, makes you laugh until you very nearly wet yourself {during said stories}, will always leave you with a smile on your face, and who stress-baked her way through medical school.
Anyone who was lucky enough to know her during medical school indulged in her baked goods – especially her famous banana bread – on a regular basis.
Medical school + inclination to bake under stress = steady flow of banana bread.
We had it made.
Then she went and graduated and moved away.
Can you believe it?
The audacity.
But. You see…this girl is an unusual bread, er..I mean breed.
Despite being miles and miles away, in a different state, having not glimpsed her pretty face {and deliciously crazy, thick curly hair} for over a year {she has yet to meet our little Bug, who happens to turn 1 next month…and yes, I have an obsession with using the curvy parenthesis}…her presence is enjoyed through sweet surprises like this…a box that showed up in our mailbox yesterday.
Inside: 2 loaves of banana bread {1 appears to be missing in this photo…have no idea how that happened}, and gifts for our kiddos who both celebrate birthdays this summer. Note, these are kids she barely knows {and would not be able to identify in a crowd…if it were not for the plethora of images this trigger-happy mama posts of them daily}.
Just because that’s how she rolls.
We received one of these super cool boxes right after Bug was born. It even contained some samples of heavy duty, industrial strength diaper rash cream…compliments of the Doc.
Straight out of the blue, these babies arrive…filled with baked good and love and gifts galore. Oh, and the adorable little notes stuck to each item teasing what’s inside and who it’s for.
You see, some people amaze me.
Their generosity and thoughtfulness bless my socks off, and serve as powerful reminders of how beautifully reminiscent of the Father’s heart thinking outside of yourself can be.
So thanks, Dr. Banana. You bless my heart. I want to be more like you when I grow up.
My mom always told me how touched she was when people loved on her kids. It was as if they were loving on her directly through us.
I get to experience that first hand through you. Thanks for loving on my babes.
And what’s even better is…I know our Father’s heart is delighted by the scrumptious box of goodies you sent up here to the middle of nowhereville, where a couple of his kids now live.
We miss you.
Even more than we miss your stress baking.
Rock on, Doc.
