The Portion of my Inheritance

Summer would finally come and we would push all the furniture against the wall and set the tent up right in the middle of our living room. It was his secret place and he loved little nooks and cubbyholes. It was a get away in our home just for him. Video games were always at the top of his priority list and we would string extension cords across the room to supply the TV and video equipment. Piles of books were stacked inside right beside the make shift bed. I would serve him snacks and drinks and he was a happy camper laid out inside his own little sanctuary. He sometimes had friends over to spend the night and they would sleep in there, but mostly it was just for him, and sometimes for me.

We spent countless hours inside that tent, my son and I. We would talk and he would share his heart and I would share mine. We read books, all kinds of books, and talked about them. We told stories and expressed dreams. We laughed till our stomachs hurt and we also had some tearful moments, but my most favorite of all was our talks about God. We had so many precious moments talking about our Lord within the fabric walls of that tent. Questions, answers, prayer request and just plain lovin on Him by expressing our love for Him.

I have many wonderful memories of our time spent in the tent, but my favorite story is one that truly expresses the heart of my young son and his love for Jesus.

It was customary for my son that when his daddy came home from work each evening, as soon his truck pulled into the driveway he would fly out the front door, race down the side walk and jump into his daddy’s arms. His daddy would catch him and swoop him up and they would hug and laugh all the way inside the house, each expressing the happiness at seeing the other. This was a special time for each of them and they cherished those special times.

On one of our tent talks, my son and I was talking about heaven; what it would look like, and how happy we would feel to be there. We both talked with such excitement at the thought of heaven, when suddenly he looked at me very serious. His eyes searched my face and I could tell that he had something very important to say to me. “Mama, do you think it would be alright with Jesus when I saw Him if I ran and jumped into His arms?”

I could not contain the tears that immediately seeped out of my eyes, my heart overflowing with love, “Oh son, I am sure that would make Him very happy!”

He seemed satisfied with my answer and our talk turned to another direction.

But it left me with a constant nagging question, even now, nearly 20 years later. Do I have that hunger and desire to run and jump into my Savior’s arms? Do I go to Him everyday because it’s just what I have to do because I’m obligated to spend time with Him, bound because I am a christian? Or do I go to Him everyday because I love Him so much that at the beautiful sight of Him my heart desires to run to Him and jump straight into His loving arms?

My son changed the way I think that day. He challenged me to express my love for my Lord with abandon, to yield to my heart without restraint and to give Him my all! To make each approach to Jesus a special time, time that we both would cherish, an opportunity to express my happiness at just being with Him.

I have fallen short most times, but I do have these moments . . . these very special moments. . . .

Jesus replied, “‘You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.” Jesus~Matthew 22:37