THE HEART SHAPED HOLE
Molly entered my life in the dark hours of the morning as I served as an adult team leader on a Freshman Catholic high school weekend retreat. I Shared a dormitory room with 18 high school girls slumbering in sleeping bags on the floor of an old high school classroom. In the quiet of the night, I awakened to the muffled sounds of tears and sniffling. Slowly in the dark, I moved closer to Molly and gently asked her if she would like to talk.
She lifted her wet tear stained face to me and nodded. We found an empty lounge in the school where she began to pour out her story. With her head bent low, she told me that three months earlier she had an abortion. Just recently she spent time in a mental health unit seeking to deal with suicidal ideation.
Molly happened to know some of my sons who were students in the same school. Over the next three years, our paths often crossed, and she welcomed opportunities to talk. During our talks, she shared that she continued to see a school counselor.
Molly was liked and became involved in a number of school functions and activities and in her senior year was on the Spring Prom committee. Her date was a classmate friend and she was looking forward to her first high school formal dance. She had a new dress, great plans for pre-prom dinner and post-prom party…and her parents were excited for and with her.
A week after prom, Molly approached me and asked if we could go for a walk and talk. As we walked, Molly cried and shared her sense of isolation; she brought up the abortion of her earlier high school years. As her feelings spilled out it went something like this.
“My whole life has changed.” My parents love me. I love them. I have tried to make friends and be involved in school. I was so excited about Spring Prom…and everything seemed just about perfect…. but the day after prom… I felt sad and though surrounded by dear friends I felt isolated and alone. It was then that I realized that within my being was a ‘heart shaped hole’ that seemed nothing could fill. Oh, how joy is contagious as well as suffering.
Our hearts are like vagabonds searching for a resting place which we can call home.
Molly longed for comfort, peace and real joy. She longed for a sense of home. Home may or may not be a house with an address, or a place where we gather with people we love. Home is where we experience a deep inner peace and recognition of who we are and why we are here.
Jesus is our real home; he knows us and we know him. He quietly waits for each of us to invite Him into our own deep heart- shaped holes with His love. For His love knows the depth of each of us and is the only thing that satisfies our inner longings and brings real joy. The joy that fills our hearts with the peace that only Christ can bring.