Melba Fletcher read one of my stories in Guideposts and wrote me a letter.
“If you knew me,” she insisted, “you’d like me.” I called her and instantly felt like we could talk to each other about anything.
And we have—from little things like our love of beautiful shoes that end up hurting our feet to deeper things like our worries—and our joys—about our families.
Our first get-together was at Amelia Island, Florida, halfway between her town and mine. We sat by the ocean and laughed and prayed and talked.
Melba had a whole list of questions for me. How do I live with pain? How do I deal with disappointment? What’s my favorite Scripture? She even took notes (I think that passion for learning is what made her become a college professor).
Melba gets me to laugh and hope again, just like the promise in our favorite Psalm, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
