Lost in the Post

I sent a couple of relatives copies of a family photograph from around 1920. I had heard nothing back from either and was keen to find out if they had been received without appearing to fish for thanks. A way was found and it transpired both had arrived, but one acknowledgement which had been posted was never received. I suppose it is worse the photograph be lost than the acknowledgement of its receipt. Still, it reminded me of a couple of postal quips. The first, which I think is attributable to the late novelist Terry Pratchett, advises that anyone wishing to dispose of a dead body should wrap it up and send it through the post as it’ll never be seen again. The second, from the Letterbocks pages of Viz magazine, suggests more convenient ways of gambling one’s money than going to the trouble of attending a casino. Simply send £20 to oneself in the post; you may get your money back, you may not. If you’re lucky, you’ll get someone else’s post with even more cash inside.

Our own Royal Mail isn’t bad, though I note that buying just one of its stamps would not return the buyer much change from a pound. Be that as it may, we have all suffered from lost post, though by definition, the problem is likely to be more acute than we realise. A reliable and affordable postal service must operate if a civilised nation is to function. Messages must be delivered, communications sent, responses received. Whatever important messages we entrust to Royal Mail, King Jesus employs us to deliver His word to our friends and relatives. May we prove more reliable, more efficient and more cheerful than many of the men and women who post through our bills, supplies of junk mail and, occasionally, letters of thanks from far flung kin.

...that the sharing of your faith may become effective by the acknowledgment of every good thing which is in you in Christ Jesus. Philemon 6.

Image by wal_172619 from Pixabay