Go for it!

Why you should write someone a letter—at least once in your lifetime.

Credit: Pinterest? (Credit: The original owner).

Back in January 2024, I felt a gentle prompting to write personal letters to people (online). At the time, WhatsApp felt like the ‘safest’ medium to put out this intention of mine. So, I put it up on my status, asking anyone interested to send me a DM.

A few people did, and I followed through.

It was a one-time thing for the most part. I love writing (I truly do) and when the moment calls for it, I still send friends emails or letters here and there. But that season was different. Special, too.

Guess what?

Recently, I stumbled upon one of those letters, still tucked away in my Google Docs. Sadly, the person I wrote it has gone to be with the Lord now. He’s the dear friend I wrote about here. (God rest his soul).

Now, when I found that letter again, it felt like time reaching back to tap me on the shoulder. A reminder that I didn’t know then what I know now. I wasn’t trying to preserve memory or predict loss. I was simply being obedient to God’s leading.

Another thing that sat me down was the memory of how genuinely happy he was when he received it back then.

In his reply to me, among other things, he said: “Debola, I wish I could frame those words.” That exchange became one of the hallmarks of our platonic friendship, proof that words, when given sincerely, can become keepsakes.

As I read through again, I felt gratitude. I was glad. Deeply glad that I didn’t postpone or overthink it; and I sent it when I did (he passed a year after).

Now, I’m not saying that the only reason we should write people letters is because of loss, or the possibility of it. No. That would be missing the point. We should write letters because people are here now. I’d written my friend a letter while he was here, so writing him a tribute when he was gone never felt like it was the first time I was telling him he mattered.

What remained was honouring memory, not racing to say what should have been said too late. And that, somehow, made the loss a little more bearable…because I knew he knew.

Now, even when you don’t really know a person, a letter can still matter. It’s an even greater blessing when you rely on the Spirit’s leading to guide your words—to say what needs to be said, to offer encouragement, comfort, or affirmation that the recipient might not even know they needed.

That’s why I genuinely appreciate what big sis Temitope Kenneth-Jatto is doing on her platform: sending out (New Year) letters to people who signed up when she opened the call last year. I received one recently, and it absolutely wrecked me in the best way. Those words are staying with me for a long, long time.

One of my favourite lines.

Ask any writer, and they’ll tell you: the joy of writing is one thing, but the exceeding joy of being written to (or written about) especially for something good? Heck, it’s surreal.

🗣️: Hey, future partner, I’m not asking that you be a writer… just that you write me letters. Plentyyyy! Letters that don’t need too many fancy words. Just love up on me with thoughtful words, bucko! Okay?

So shall it be.

But I digress.

Said all all of that to say: Give people their flowers with kind words and heartfelt sentences, while they’re still here to receive them. Most especially people who cherish it. Because words have a way of outliving moments, you know?

Even more, writing someone a letter can be an extension of the Father’s nature: El-Roi, the God who sees. They are reminders to people that they are seen, appreciated, and loved, sometimes in ways a simple “thank you” or an almighty bouquet never could.

Write more letters, y’all. They (you) will be glad. 💌

Yours in Quality Time,
Adébọ́lá.🦋