Rhema’s taken up texting.
She often finds my phone and starts sending people cryptic messages.
She likes to pick a letter or number or symbol and press it repeatedly for like 5 minutes and then hit Send.
Family and friends have come to recognize her messages -(although my friend Leah once teased, “J, stop texting when you are drunk.”)
It’s like deciphering hieroglyphics. Often people respond, “Hi Rhema!” “I miss you, too.” “Wow. Love you!”
Mercifully, only my email address is on her iTouch, and she sends me lots of messages. I can’t help but smile when I’m not with her and I start getting her texts in rapid succession. I’m not sure she has any idea what happens when she hits Send, I don’t think she knows I am receiving everything she’s typing. But I treasure the connection anyway… it feels like she’s reaching out to me, like she’s saying “Hey Mom. I am here.”
And I dare to believe it’s a sign of things to come – one day the letters will turn into words, the words will become sentences. I used to not let myself go there, not hope too much. But all her life, God and Rhema have been blowing my mind, doing the extraordinary. I can almost see it, read it, touch it, hear it: my girl telling me the things she’s been wanting to say to all this time.
Ahhh! One day soon.
Some wonderful texts I’ve received recently: