Everyone knows what a full stomach is. But do you know what a full heart is? I learned the term years ago from a 20-something when I was 40-something. He was a bit more artistic in his thinking than I. He had just returned from talking to “a woman on the street” about Jesus. It was Christmas time, and he was filled with awe that God would give him this opportunity to share LIFE with one who was so despairing. “My heart is full!” Signifying there was nothing that could make life more meaningful for him. He was satisfied, complete, confident that there was nothing that could give him more joy!
I loved that guy. And I wanted to emulate his joy and figure out how to live more that way. My life didn’t seem as carefree, flexible, or winsome as his. I was a mom and pastor’s wife, traveling the country, serving in multiple churches (read Faith in the Heartland if you want to know more),tied down to a busy schedule, the demanding routine of caring for a severely disabled teenager, and homeschooling an elementary aged boy. Life was full alright, but not in the way my friend felt it!
Well let’s just say, maybe its because I am 20 years older, walking closer to Jesus, or perhaps just losing some of my “rigidity” now that senility is setting in… But I walked out of my church on Sunday afternoon, looked up in the heavens and said, “My heart is full!” With a smile on my face and a heart that was dancing the way my friend was 20 years ago. Yes, even with a gimpy back, I did a little two-steppin’ jig with my son beside me and Kari rolling by my side. I had just experienced the joy of Christmas and I was complete, satisfied, and confident that, even if everything else goes wrong in the next two weeks, I’ll not have a need.
I know you are wondering “so what is she up to now?” Well, I had just completed a four-hour Christmas celebration with Kari’s Shepherd’s class friends at Calvary church. It was a blast! Ron and I help in the class twice a month and this was our Sunday to serve. The class was rocking with excitement as we led them through the story of the paralytic man who was healed by Jesus. Kari got to be highlighted in class because she was the only one who is a “paralytic” – not able to move without help. But the miracle-working Jesus got the class excited as they all have something they are eager to have healed by Jesus. I sat in awe as I listened to their excitement of the hope of heaven. In fact, the young adult beside me could not get done talking of the new Jerusalem. We wrapped up the topic with intense prayers by the students for each other, ending our time with a rousing song. I am sure heaven was ripped open and angels came down in that classroom, dancing for joy with us.
Let me break for a moment. Bear with me. As a mom who has, for 37 years, carried an enormous amount of weight on behalf of my children (even watching one die and handing him over in the arms of Jesus), it has been torturous and a long road. Even now I am tempted to cry out, “Oh God, why does my daughter have to endure so much? She can’t move (unless I move her), she can’t speak, she can’t see, her bones are weak, and with muscles contorted. She sits and sits and pushes through more pain than I can imagine! How long oh Lord, how long?”
In the silence, God whispers to my heart, “Joan, my grace is sufficient for her. You don’t need the grace like she needs it. I have filled her up, I have made her complete, her reward is coming. Trust me and keep caring for your daughter, knowing she is one of the “least of these” in your world, but in mine she is the apple of my eye!”
“Oh, dear Jesus, I never saw this before. Yes, I know about the grace you give me when others can’t see how I do what I do. But do I really think I have the corner on that? Grace, just for me? Oh no, child! Look at your daughter! She has bucket loads more than you’ll ever know.”
So, when I walk out of a four-hour party… Yes, on Sunday after class, we then partied for 3 more hours! After having spent time with Kari’s friends, who know a whole lot more about the grace of Jesus – they don’t hold back. No filters, no pride, no competition, just pure joy. I am a humbled woman with an overflowing heart of joy. These crazy 20-something kids in my life sure have a lot to teach this stodgy old lady.
We ended the party with Matthew (he was allowed to be at the party because of his sister and parents who help) leading us through four verses of Silent Night. He asked the attendees to sing the song peacefully. Apparently, “peacefully” (to people who experience Jesus with no filters) means looking up into the heavens and singing as loudly as you can. I expected that maybe Christ would come – the second Advent upon us!
Merry Christmas everyone and thanks for listening to my full heart!
Joan