Full

My heart is full.

On Thursday, our Bible Study group took my husband and me out to celebrate our 25th Anniversary. We had a very nice dinner at Fratello's. The food was good, but the companionship at our table was even better. I love these new friends so very much and I thank them for the care and the friendship they have offered my husband and me.

This was the first time any of our church friends have done anything remotely nice for Tom or me. After nearly a decade of attending the same church, several of our church friends finally took the time to care about us, to honor us, to love us. And I have to tell you, it felt good.

Last year when I struggled with some health problems, I told several church friends that our family would really benefit from the healing prayers of others in our community. I even went so far as to suggest that we would like to have a group of our neighbors join together to pray with us and for us.

And do you know what I was told? I was told, "Well when you get something organized, let me know. I'll come by."

There I was, bouncing in and out of the hospital, struggling to keep hearth and home going, and not one of our church friends could be bothered to organize a healing prayer group for our family.

That was when I really understood that the people I had been worshipping with, praying with, working alongside, simply didn't care. I know for a fact that healing prayer groups were organized for other families in crises....but not for our family. I can only surmise that we weren't important enough to be prayed for, or our timing was inconvenient or....well you fill in the blank. The bottom line is, our church family failed us in that moment of need.

The real tragedy in all of this was the deep crises of doubt that whole situation created within me. If my church family cared so little, loved so poorly, then perhaps God loved me the same way as well. I began to question the quality of God's love for me. I began to doubt His goodness. I began to doubt God. And this doubting has persisted for quite some time....perhaps even into this present moment where, if I am honest, I will admit to harboring just a smidgeon of uncertainty about God's ability to love me.

I talk with God about this all the time, like a modern day, female version of Jacob wrestling with God, I wrestle with God too. I think I wrestle so hard because I desire to become so entangled with the Holiest of Holies, that when I finally give up, God's own presence will be so enmeshed with my own that in my moment of surrender, I will be completely encircled by God's life, so much so, that I will be forever and eternally embraced by Him.

Yeah well, that's what I'm hoping for anyway.

....but getting back to the whole "My heart is full." thing. On Friday we celebrated our oldest daughter's 18th birthday. It was such an incredibly sweet day for me. Our oldest daughter is becoming an amazing young woman. I have been so privileged to be her mother. I love her so much.

Last week was just filled with so many joyful things/moments: sunshine, children's laughter, cheesecake, barbequed hamburgers, singing, prayers, birthday candles, true friends, and love. Every little thing, swelled my heart a little more. And now, sitting here, I can honestly say, my heart is full.

Not coincidently, my conversations with God this weekend have been filled with whispered words of gratitude. If God were here right now, you know, enfleshed and physical, I would hug him and I would jump up and down in his arms and tell him how my heart is so very, very full. I imagine that he would smile and celebrate with me. I imagine his love raining down upon me like the feather light kisses mothers press into their children's hair. I mean, just imagine it. Wouldn't that be a beautiful thing?

Sounds pretty freaking fantastic if you ask me.