She thought it might inspire me. Not just spiritual inspiration but for my writing, too. She didn’t know I had been thinking about but never acting on acquiring a devotional for myself when she sent one to my mailbox.

And it’s true, it does inspire me. Daily. Sometimes moment by moment. I am reminded of God’s grace. I am reminded that He is good. All the time. I am inspired by the positivity when days seem difficult and I am inspired by the words that remind me we are all in the same boat, many of us fighting the same battles. We are never alone in our struggles.

What she didn’t know is how inspired I am by her. Growing up she was our favorite aunt. Don’t tell my other aunts that, but she was the youngest (making her cooler just by age), the one who laughed the most and the one who could, in all honesty deal with the bickering between my sister and me better than anyone. She came to stay when my mom was in the hospital; leaving her own family behind, she would come and be our surrogate mom during times of great uncertainty and worry for pre-teen kids. While we never wished Mom would have to endure another surgery or more chemo, we cherished the times when Aunt Marg would come to visit. She smiles so easily and you can’t help but feel like the world is a better place when she’s around.

I remember a time as a young teenager, when my grandpa came to visit. He always, ALWAYS, made us sit in his new car and admire the plush seats. This time, he put a tape in the player and asked me to guess who the music was by. I knew right away from the way he was acting that the pianist was Aunt Marg, but I also knew that my grandpa was beaming with pride and was showing off on her behalf. “Beethoven?” I suggested, “Bach?” He grinned from ear to ear and said, “That might be the composer, but the one performing is Marg!” I wondered that day, sitting in the passenger seat if my dad might ever be as proud of me as my grandad was of my Aunt. I knew I would never be as good at the piano as she was, but her inspiration still kept me practicing.

Just like my daily devotional, I think of Aunt Marg all the time. Perennials she blessed me with are prospering in my front flower bed. Every time I add to our landscape or work in the garden I know my standards for gardening excellence come from the beauty of her own yard. A freezer she generously gave to us holds the bounty of our garden and pasture until we are ready to eat it. My dusty piano downstairs reminds me of her amazing gift of music and how many people have been blessed by that talent.

My mom has been gone for more than 25 years and I have often wondered what it would be like to have her beside me through life’s struggles and joys. But in a way, I already know. When the devotional arrived in my box, it was just like something Mom would have done. And when Aunt Marg emails to say she thought of Mom and what an amazing grandmother she would have been after reading the day’s devotional, I felt the echo of my own thoughts in her words.

Just as I am blessed by reminders of God’s grace in my bedside devotional, I am ever so blessed by the grace and love of my Aunt Marg. She inspires me to be better than I am on any given day. She reminds me that life is full of joy if we take the time to look. And she inspires me to write and share my talents with the world the way she has done. Thank you, Aunt Marg, for the devotional. It has been, like you, a blessed thing indeed.