You Have Filled My Heart

She was in her late eighties, silver hair, make-up beautifully applied, dressed for the occasion.  We will call her "Betty".  The moment I sat in the pew behind her, she turned around, asked my name, and extended her hand in a warm welcome.  We quickly realized we had a mutual friend in common - my husband (who sings in the choir at our church).  "I love to hear him sing," she said.  "We need more of that quartet business that they do."

She was precious.  We talked for several minutes before the Sunday church service began.  During our conversation, she realized that the offertory song for this particular Sunday would be a song sung by a gentleman who performed this same song at her husband's funeral seven years ago.  With eyes wide and a big grin she told me how excited she was to hear it again.

Service began, the message was preached, my heart was stirred on the theme of perseverance.  The Lord had encouraged me through our Pastor's sermon.

And then the offertory song began.  I sat with tears welling up in my eyes as I watched this sweet woman wipe tear after tear streaming down her face, hands lifted as she sang along.  And then I realized that she was an answer to a prayer I've been praying.

Lately I have been overcome with feelings of inadequacy, exhaustion, and anxiety in raising small children.  I have spent an afternoon or two or three sitting on my kitchen floor crying out of sheer frustration.  And I hated feeling that way.  Still, every time I logged onto my social media, I saw no less than three articles about how parenting is so hard, so lonely, so depressing.  It was nice to not feel alone, yet I knew that parenthood was never intended to be isolating and depressing.  Somewhere deep inside my soul I knew it was an absolute lie.  I knew that if I began to let myself believe the lie, which was incredibly easy to do, my joy would be diminished and replaced by some sad sentiment.   And I didn't want that to happen.  I began to pray for God to breathe life into those dark places; help me to feel and see joy even when I was feeling pretty miserable and sorry for myself.

And that He did.  Through this sweet widow woman, my eyes were open to the absolute beauty around me.  As I watched her worship alone, I thought: You know, this phase of life isn't so bad.  I'm surrounded by people I love and those who love me.  I have a husband who works so hard for us, comes home every night excited to see his family.  I have two precious little ones who cling to every square inch of me if possible and want to snuggle with their momma constantly.  I have the opportunity to spend so much time with my little people - reading stories, singing songs, rocking, playing outside, wiping up some type of mess, correcting behavior, molding them into decent human beings.  My grocery bill is high, but that is because I have the honor and privilege of preparing and cooking meals for my family.  There is so much laundry to be done, but that is because I have a house full of precious people who need clean clothes.  This place is a mess, but that's because memories are being made.

This phase of life is insanely beautiful.  And if I'm not careful to acknowledge that, I will believe the lies the enemy wants to feed me.  Of course it is hard some days, but nothing like Betty's hard.  Betty came alone, left alone.  I came with my family, left with my family.  Betty went home alone.  I went home to a full, rambunctious house.  Betty's children are scattered across the country.  Mine are under the same roof.  Betty ate dinner alone.  I got to cook dinner, sit around the table, and eat in the company of my husband and children.  Betty went to bed alone.  I got to read and rock two littles to bed and then curl up next to my husband.  Betty still had joy.  My joy had been renewed.

Maybe the hard times of this phase prepare us for what is to come if we're blessed with the gift of longevity.  So, I will savor and revel in the grandeur of this moment.  As we are told, it goes by so fast.

Thank You, Lord, for hearing and answering my prayers.  Thank You for filling my heart with joy.  If I'm not careful to seek Your help, I know my heart can quickly be filled with something else.  Help me to always choose joy.