There I was… right in the middle of what I can now say was one of the hardest times of my life. We were so far away from loved ones who were trying their best to manage a crisis of unfathomable proportions and there was no possible way for us to be present with them. As a family we were collectively believing for the miraculous, while physically being separated and feeling the distance of each mile that stood between us.
On one of those days when life felt like it was suspended in eternal limbo, a loved one who knew what I was going through called me on the phone.
“I have something for you”, she said excitedly. “I was in the grocery and guess what I found?”
I smiled, immediately knowing what she was talking about.
I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but there’s something about chocolate-covered raisins that I just can’t get enough of. Unfortunately, the popular brand that I love is often hard to find where we live, and when we do manage to find it, it is quite pricey. I therefore usually settle for enjoying them when I am away or if someone is kind enough to think of me when they travel.
I remember the feeling I had when my loved one dropped the pack of sweet goodness to my home. Holding a small handful of the treats in my palm, I felt seen. I felt cared for. I felt loved.
My loved one knew the magnitude of the crisis we were in, and she understood that there was nothing that she could do to help to resolve it. But she knew that she could show up. She could show that she was thinking of me. She could show that she cared.
And in that moment, I felt love in its purest form. The simple chocolate-covered raisins represented more than just a sweet snack. They were a lesson:
That extending help to loved ones in crisis is more accessible than we think.
That showing up for someone in a meaningful way takes many forms.
And, most importantly, that extraordinary love often looks very ordinary.
It’s easy to get carried away with grand gestures of love, or to feel lonely when we look around us and we notice the lack thereof. But I’ve come to learn that the grandness of a gesture has nothing to do with the depth or the sincerity of the love.
Just like a little handful of chocolate-covered raisins in the middle of a crisis, extraordinary love often takes more ordinary forms.
Extraordinary love looks like empty hands that reach out anyway.
Extraordinary love looks like presence, attention and time even though there is so much more that needs to be done.
Extraordinary love looks like being able to show up just as we are, and being assured that that is enough.
It feels like chocolate-covered raisins in a tired palm.
It sounds like “I saw this and I thought of you”.
It looks less like grand gestures on a designated day and more like living love in small ways every day.
May we live love in small ways every day.
And may we always appreciate the extraordinary love hidden within the ordinary.
Thank you!