by Mark Russo

I realized it over time, in bits and pieces.

A belly laugh, not the kind that is forced and designed to transition you out of a conversation, but an honest, uncontrollable, bust-a-gut belly laugh.

This is not how I would have drawn it up. When Becky my wife and I came to Seattle and Bethany in 2000, I longed to be in a weekly, small group of Christians. I imagined people who looked liked me, thought like me, and were going through the same things as me.

Instead, we landed in a group comprised of the homeless, the broken, the out-cast and the working poor. This wasn't on the brochure!

An uncontrollable desire to share a story, a prayer, praise or a joke they told me.

I call it the upside down gospel. At first, and sometimes even now, I guess I believed this is where God would have me serve: befriending, walking, supporting, and loving the poor in spirit and the poor in possessions.

Over time, in bits and pieces, in fits and starts, I realized that God had a lot more for my wife, daughter Maria, and me.

Retelling stories, laughing, joyful wrinkles on our faces as we talked about our new friends.

It's not just that God is teaching my family through these relationships. HE IS. He's teaching us to look beyond our fears and into the eyes of someone different. He's teaching us to see the person behind the illness, the depression and the pain. He's teaching us to look beyond their balance sheet and into the depths of their heart.

More striking to my family is the joy we receive when we are with these folks; the joy of laughing at feeble joke [often mine]; the joy of celebrating Easter together and hearing "this is the best holiday I've ever had." The joy of praying for God to literally forgive our debts; the joy of watching my daughter play and laugh with someone different and knowing that for her, this is normal life.

Talk about upside down.

Then it happened to us. We have everything together, right? We don’t need anything from anyone, right? But there we were, in this group again, being prayed for, having hands laid on, crying out to God in desperation.

Our soon to be born daughter was diagnosed with potentially severe brain abnormalities, testing our faith, our marriage and our young family. In this time of need, our time of need, God met us in the most unexpected way: in this group of people so different from ourselves.

Now I understand why Jesus walked, ate and hung out with the poor, the sick and marginalized of his day, because they bring pure joy and richness to life.

I don't tell this story to make you feel guilty or to motivate you to a life of service to the poor.

I write to encourage you to experience the joy of walking, in Christ, with someone in need. I write to encourage you to participate today in a vision of God's kingdom here on earth, in our city and in our church, not out of charity or obligation but in joy. I write to invite you to receive a little piece of heaven that we've received as a family.

If you would like to learn more about being in fellowship with us (Wednesday nights in the Parlor from 7-8:30 p.m.), please contact Mark Russo at mark.joseph.russo@gmail.com.