A Tale of Two Tokens.

Guys. I don’t mean to bombard you with Holy Yoga training stuff in these nine weeks that I’m in it, BUT something really cool happened tonight. I don’t even care if it’s a coincidence; I’m excited (and I just can’t hide it).

Nearly 2 years ago, I went to Jesus at the Core to participate in a Holy Yoga class. I’d been following their ministry for a few years and felt so drawn to it, right? Maybe you’ve read this before. I’ll try not to hash out all these details every time I mention it. Anyway, part of our time together was this sort of prayer-relationship building exercise. We sat around the sanctuary in a circle and they gave us these little heart-shaped, wooden tokens.

I can’t remember exactly how this worked, so I’m going to fudge the theology here, okay? But essentially, whatever was on our actual hearts – our hopes, fears, concerns, dreams, friends or family members, jobs, ministries, whatever it was – we prayed and cast it onto these tokens. They were representative of our real hearts beating in our chests in that moment somehow.

And right as I was about to get attached to my particular little heart, pumped to always be able to look down at this thing and remember that moment, they had us pass ours to the woman to our right.

Now in case you don’t know the story already, I was there alone. I drove 3 hours away from home by myself. So I didn’t know a single person there. So the woman to my right was a complete stranger. To this day, she still is. I wouldn’t know her to see her. Nonetheless, I passed my heart to her, and collected the heart from the woman to my left, whom I also did not know. We were given instructions to carry and pray for the heart of our neighbor, and trust that the person with our own would do the same.

Fast forward nearly 2 years to a few days ago. I was scrolling through a Facebook group for practitioners of Holy Yoga, and someone posted something about their mother wanting to thank whoever had taken her heart from a yoga class they’d recently attended because she felt as if she’d been prayed for. As sweet as that is, it reminded me that I have a heart somewhere from a class just like that. But where was it?

I didn’t have the slightest clue. In 2016, just a few months after Jesus at the Core, I moved four times. Two of those times were done in a bit of a rush, so a number of things went missing that year. I honestly kind of chalked this up to be one of those things, and as big of a bummer as it was, I maybe spent 2.7 minutes thinking about it the other day, and then went about my business. I didn’t ask the Lord to help me find it or stress about it, it was just one of those things. And I’ve got a ton of stuff to think about all the time, so my mind wandered almost embarrassingly fast from the thought.

Skip ahead to this evening: my husband and I put the kids to bed and headed to the office so each of us could get some work done. Outside of our office is the laundry room, and because I’m always behind on laundry, I decided to rotate it quickly before I sat down. I folded my sons clothes from the dryer, and moved to put my daughters in next.

As I pulled one of the last handfuls of clothes out of the wash, I heard something *clink* in the washer. Not altogether unusual, my daughter is a pack rat and keeps inordinate amounts of little trinkets and rocks and, well, crap in her pockets. But as soon as I peered into the washer to see what it was, I laughed.

It was the heart from Jesus at the Core.

I couldn’t even believe my eyes, but it was really just funny at first. I turned it over and over in my hands and it was without a doubt the heart from that weekend. I don’t even have a clue how it got there. It’s entirely possible she got her hands on it at some point, and there’s a million and two ways it could’ve ended up in a pocket recently, and then into the laundry.

But of all the times for me to be reunited with the thing… it’s interesting at least.

It’s been 2 years since I even saw it, and it resurfaces now. 3 weeks into the very Holy Yoga training I prayed for the day it was given to me. The longer I held it, the more astonished I became. In near amazement, I shared the story with my husband because it’s just cool. And I said how grateful I was for the woman that took my heart and prayed for me, because I’m here. (and I still am so humbled and grateful. If that was you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you).

He agreed, but opened my eyes to an entirely new angle: what if the woman who gave me her heart needs me now? What if I found this heart today, not just as something to offer me confirmation and encouragement, but also, because it’s owner is in need of prayer?

Wow. It just gets more interesting.

So before bed tonight and in the coming weeks, I’ve fixed this heart where I will see it during my prayer and meditation times. I’ve prayed for her and will continue to do so.

So if you were at Jesus at the Core in about April 2016 in Springfield, OH, and you handed your heart to someone, and you’re in need – maybe this one’s yours. And I just want you to know that I got you. I don’t know you and I may never, but I got you. And more importantly, God’s got you. It’s working together to bring people around you who care enough to talk to Him about you, even if you don’t know us or see us. Wherever you are, you are loved and covered in whatever it is you’re going through.