A Word on my Heart

In years past I've noticed people choosing "a word" to define an overall goal for the year that usually related to their spiritual lives, and I've admired that from afar but have never had one. For example, I know someone who said her word for the year was Trust, because she wanted her focus for the year to be on learning to embrace and trust God more in her daily life. I've heard of women who said that their word for the year was Yes, because they needed to focus on saying yes to the things in life that they felt like God was leading them to do instead of shying away from things that made them uncomfortable. In the same way other people have chosen to whisper the words No, or Not Yet, or perhaps urgently reminded themselves of the phrase Not So Fast! Because in their lives they were the overcommitted, the overspent, the over involved who needed to practice focusing all of their time and efforts on what God was calling them to do instead of trying to force tiny pieces of themselves away in a hundred different directions to things that made themselves look or feel good.

Surrender.  Peace. Focus. Change. Confidence. Grace. All words I've heard people claim as their own for a specific year. 

I didn't start off 2017 claiming a word for myself, but when I look back I feel like one was claimed for me. 

***

Faith. The simple five letter word that means believing in something that you cannot see. Placing total trust in a person or thing.

Looking back over the entirety that was 2017 I feel like faith was the theme that popped up over and over again. 

I learned a lot about my own faith. I learned that despite giving my heart to God several years ago I still had reservations and things in my life that I didn't think God was big enough to handle...

If I had to pick a word to summarize 2016 it would have been something like discontent. I was restless. I looked and searched frantically for peace and fulfillment in people around me, and because people are just people they inevitably let me down every time. I would become upset and depressed no matter how genuine the excuse, or how honest the mistake. My insecurity was so terrible that it didn't matter if someone did something as simple as rescheduling a lunch meeting, or something bigger like telling a lie; I would always find a way to twist it and convince myself that something happened because of me. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't liked enough. I wasn't worth someone's time. 

New Years Eve last year (2016 going into 2017) was particularly difficult. I don't remember why. I don't remember who. I don't have an inkling of an idea of what happened, but I know I faced an all too familiar situation where someone had let me down. I was so angry and bitter towards myself, and I was very frustrated with God. I cried. I had a pity party. I "oh woe is me"'d for a little while before building a bridge and getting over whatever it was that bothered me so much. 

I sat on the couch with my mom watching the ball drop in New York City, and took a moment to ask God a very small and simple question.

"What would it look like if I approached 2017 differently? Because this is exhausting. I'm supposed to love you with every bit of my heart, and sometimes I don't even like you! I'm angry. I'm frustrated.  And I don't know what else to do..."

So 2017 began with a very guilty heart and conscience. I had basically just told God that I didn't want to be his friend anymore, and that's pretty terrible. 

I didn't sleep well that night, and when I woke up on January 1st, 2017 wouldn't you know it...it was a Sunday. I woke up, got ready for church like I would on any other Sunday, got in the car, and then I just kept driving. I drove to a church nearly an hour away from where I lived, and I prayed and prayed the whole way there. I walked into a church I had never been to before, surrounded by people I had never met before, and expected a normal worship service with some kind of feel-good message about what Christians could do with a new year. Instead, I got a very reverent prayer service. So I was given even more opportunities to pray.

Several songs, boxes of tissues, and prayer prompts later I told God I would do more to figure out what it meant to find my identity in Him instead of hinging my happiness on other people.

My name is Melissa Jennings, and if there was a support group called People Pleaser Anonymous I would not only be the founder and leader, but also the mascot, director, and coordinator. But then I'd be really concerned over whether or not people thought I was doing a good job or not, so I'd volunteer to make cookies or buffalo chicken dip for the meetings. But then I'd worry that people would think I'm trying too hard, so I'd start just volunteering to bring drinks or napkins to the meetings and asking if anyone else wants to volunteer to bring refreshments, and I'd worry that people thought I was lazy. Then a week would come where three people were out because they said they were sick, and I'd somehow manage to think that it was because the meeting room's decorations were outdated. So the week before Christmas when everyone goes out of town to be with their families I would decide to redecorate the entire building and ask for volunteers to help me. Out of one hundred and eighty-seven people, three people sign up to help, and I would probably cry and tell myself it was because no one liked the cookies that I made three months ago, or because I sneezed before answering someone's question last week.

Phew.

So what did it look like for me to find my identity in Christ?

First of all, I had to figure out what my identity in Christ even was. For me that meant visiting other churches, backing off of responsibilities, and not signing up to do seven thousand things in my free time. Which was hard because I thought I was letting people down. And the fear of failure and disappointing others is by far my absolute deepest fear. If you don't believe me please refer back to my hypothetical mental breakdown in the paragraph above...

I had to figure out how to have a quiet time every day of the week, and not just in quiet moments in random churches on Sunday mornings. *Spoiler Alert* Every other time when you talk to your pastor, spiritual mentor, or close Christian friend and you complain about life's newest drama and how unhappy you are, and they ask you how your quiet time is...it's because if you're having productive quiet times it actually makes a difference. Seriously. I know, I was surprised too. Getting alone with God to read the Bible and pray actually makes a difference in your spiritual life. Who would have thought? 

I had to figure out what it meant to have a relationship where I liked spending time with God, and that meant that I had to learn the idea that God WANTS to spend time with me. He wants to pursue a relationship with me, which means I have to pursue a relationship with Him. 

I had to figure out where God wanted me to be. After a whole lot of prayer, and buckets and buckets of tears, I realized that God wanted me to serve at a different church. There was absolutely nothing wrong with my church home where I was, and if you've read my blog for an extensive amount of time then you would know how often I talked about how much I loved my church family. But I think that was part of the problem. I think I had been finding my identity in my church. I found my identity in how people at my church made me feel. I found my identity in how many activities I could volunteer for, how much time I could spend in a building when the doors were open, and how many people I could make like me. Some people could have taken these realizations and just changed things about themselves to alter their perspectives and interactions. I tried, and I consistently struggled. So I feel like God told me to go. (Side Note: That's part of my story. If you're struggling with similar feelings of a Christian Identity crisis, this particular decision may not be a part of your story. God may be prompting you to stay where you are. Don't base a decision like leaving your church, or anything of real importance, based on the experiences of someone else. I'm where God needs me to be right now. At the end of the day, that's all that matters. Where do you feel like God is leading you to be?)

I kept visiting churches, and started going to one that I ended up becoming a member early on in the summer of this year. I have learned more about my relationship with God from my time here than I would ever be able to put into words, and I wish I could just meet every single person I meet out to coffee and really explain what God did in my life this year. 

***

I took a leap of faith and decided to really let God take control of every aspect of my life. This has been extremely difficult at times. On numerous occasions, I've felt like I didn't belong in a certain place, or felt like I didn't have a single clue as to what on earth I was doing. On top of all of this going on, I was going to school full time. In the spring semester that meant working part-time, taking classes full time, and completing over fifty hours of field experience. During the fall it meant tackling Residency I, student teaching, edTPA, full-time classes, lesson plans, and navigating the professional world. I have doubted what I'm supposed to be doing with my life more times than I can count, and that's not a particularly new feeling for this anxiety-filled lady. However, the difference this year has been in knowing and truly believing that God is big enough to bring me through whatever I'm facing.

I had faith that God was going to put me exactly where I needed to be, and I've had faith that allowed me to serve in really awesome and unique ways that I normally wouldn't have been brave enough to try or do. I've met amazing people. I've strengthened friendships, and let go of some ones that weren't so healthy. I'm still an awkward, anxious mess most of the time, but going into 2018 I can say that I'm an awkward anxious mess that loves the Lord more than ever before & I have a far more genuine love for people than I've ever had before.

***

Faith wasn't my word for 2017, but it's the perfect one to describe a lot of what God taught me. I thought about picking a word for 2018 or even re-claiming the word Faith for the next 365 days. But I decided not to. I want to continue to seek Christ, and just allow Him to teach me whatever He feels like He wants me to know. On New Year's Eve next year I'll tell you what my word ends up being. :0)

2018 is going to be a big year! I'll be in two of my best friend's weddings, I'll graduate in May, and (hopefully!) I'll have a full-time teaching job with my own class in August.

So here's to the adventures that await, all the surprises along the way, and to a God that is gracious enough to show me His glory and share His wisdom along the way. 

Apple Juice, Cabinets, & Grace

I was in pre-school and it was snack time.

My teacher had passed out the graham crackers that we had for every snack and began to walk around the room to pour apple juice into our tiny cups for our tiny little bodies to enjoy. On this particular day, I decided to help my teacher out. As she poured it into my cup, I reached up with my little fingers, and pushed the end of the apple juice carton thinking that it was heavy and she needed help lifting it.

Well…I almost helped her make a very large mess. If she hadn’t been paying attention that apple juice would have been all over the table, the chairs, the floor, and of course all over me.

“What are you doing?!” my teacher asked in her teacher voice. You know, the one that sternly suggests you’re doing something wrong. Her hand went to her hip, her eyes narrowed slightly. I know exactly what it looked and sounded like because I know my own teacher voice is pretty similar.

“Helping?” I said incredulously, surprised by her panicked tone.

I thought she would thank me, but she began to laugh. She called out to the teacher’s assistant across the room “Melissa just tried to help me pour the juice!”

And they laughed for a few more moments, and I sat there looking at my juice and crackers. I was four, and that’s the first time that I remember ever feeling embarrassed about something. I was only trying to help; I didn’t like being laughed at.

 Now, this is not some kind of sob story about being developmentally shamed and damaged because a teacher laughed at me. I am a type-A perfectionist with low self-esteem issues, but I promise it’s not because of a single incident that occurred when I was four years old. No, I'm sharing this story with you to show you that I've always been the kind of person that just really likes helping people.

When my little brother was a baby he had horrible acid reflux. Thankfully I have no memory of any type of projectile baby barf, but my mother has told me that on more than one occasion Michael would throw up four of his six ounces of formula, and without a word I would skip off to go find a rag and wipe him back up. All the while cooing and coddling “It’s okay Michael. You’re ok. We’ll get you cleaned up. Everything is okay.”

 Poor Michael.

The boy hardly said a word until I went off to kindergarten. I wouldn’t let him! I constantly just walked around as a kid and said “Michael doesn’t want that.” “Michael doesn’t like that.” “Michael only likes green beans if you cut them in half.” “Michael doesn’t like Barney. He only wants to watch Blue’s Clues.”

Michael was like...eighteen months old. He probably didn’t have that many opinions at all, but I made sure that I gave them to him. When mom asked the pediatrician why he wasn’t talking around two or three years old the pediatrician laughed and replied “Why would you talk if you had someone to talk for you?” When I left for school and wasn’t around as much during the day, the kid started talking up a storm. I thought it was my job to help him talk.

(He turned out totally fine, for the record. He’ll be twenty in a few months, is six feet tall, and can out-sport me in any category. He’s super smart, and on a regular four year college plan to graduate with a degree in economics.)

Another example: this past July I went on a mission trip to Las Vegas Nevada. My church partnered with a local church in the area, and volunteered in the community helping out where we could. One afternoon we volunteered at a children’s home facility, and we helped the owner movie furniture and clean up.

Well, I should say that the guys moved the furniture. There were a lot of really heavy tables, couches, and chairs that had to be moved out of storage. The girls volunteered to assemble a few pieces of furniture and clean the windows and baseboards.

Let me give a brief breakdown of Melissa Jennings' personality: I am creative & imaginative. I am a rule follower.  I love reading, writing, listening to music, and singing loudly when no one is around. I love being helpful. I love listening to people. I love listening to stories about people. I am super quiet until I get to know you, and then I just never shut up. I am not analytical. I am not a tinkerer.  I am not good at math or diagrams. I have a horrible time with abstract thinking & visualization. I know I'm not good at any kind of assembly-type job, but I really, genuinely, just like to help whenever I can...

So when the volunteer coordinator at the children’s home facility asked for volunteers to assemble furniture and no one volunteered within three seconds guess who’s hand shot up?

Mine. (Because that makes total sense. Doesn’t it? Let's volunteer for the ONE job I know I won't be able to do very well...)

So we walk into a room with furniture in piles all over the place. Bed frames were on top of couches. Couches were on top of refrigerators and tables. Tables were turned upside down and inside out and things were strewn about everywhere. The guys got to work on moving and re-organizing. One of the other guys in our group got to work on assembling a swivel chair, and I stared at a large, metal, storage cabinet. The little teacher inside of me was excited. “Ooooh a teacher cabinet. This will be easy. All I have to do is put the door handles on. I’ll be done in five minutes.” 

Wrong. So wrong. SO so wrong.

Step One: Insert rods into top and bottom of door through black plastic rod guides already installed.

      Ok…well there’s like four rods in here. Which rod do I put in the guides? The rod with the handle or the rod without one? I’ll try this one… CRASH!!! Oops. Ok. That one slipped. So it’s not that one. It has to be the oth-

      “You got it Melissa?” asked the guy working on the swivel chair.

      “Yep! Just need to figure some rod stuff out. Once I can figure out where it goes this will be a piece of cake.”

      Ok. Other rod goes here. Snaps in place here and then-……but it bends in the middle? I can’t put it in place if it bends in the middle. OH there’s a hole here for a screw. Ok. So I have to hold this with one hand, reach for a screwdriver, hold the screw with this hand, hold the rod into pla- CRASH!! Ugh. I dropped the stupid rod again.Ok. This time I’ll get the screwdriver fir- wait. Hold it. Which one is the Phillips head again? The flat one or the criss crossy one? Crap. I have no idea what I’m doing. Why does this diagram look like one of my seven year olds drew it? It says to take a screw AND a bolt. What the heck is a bolt? The swirly thing or the flat thing with the hole in-

       “Melissa are you sure you got it? I can try to help you in just a minute when I finish with the chair.” He was putting the first of the two arms on the swivel chair and on step eight of ten on his furniture assembly project. 

We’re ten minutes into this adventure. I’m still on step one. I should have said yes. I should have said that I didn’t know what I was doing after all, so I’m going to go clean a baseboard. You can try to tackle this in a few minutes. But of course I didn’t.

      “No no no, I’m just trying to figure out a couple of things is all. Once I can see where these couple of screws go it’s going to be super easy. You can go help the other guys if you want to when you’re done. I’ll be fine.”

      Less than ten minutes later the swivel chair was done.

      Fifteen minutes after that the room full of topsy-turvey, chaotically skewed furniture was completely re-organized and looked amazing.

      Three minutes later the guys were moving on to the next project.

I was left with a screwdriver, a poorly illustrated diagram, a rod that was firmly in place, a door handle and a handful of pieces that I had been staring at and messing around with for a little more than an hour. Refusing to ask for help.

Another twenty minutes goes by and I still can’t align the stupid screws in the right positions. At one point I had the door handle on FINALLY, only to see that I put it on completely upside down. I had to unscrew it, and start over on that side of the cabinet.

(I won't lie...there may have been a tear at that point.)

Two girls in our group walked in, surprised to say the least that I was still working on putting on the door handle of the same metal cabinet. They were sisters. One was in high school, and one was in middle school.

“Can I try?” asked the younger sister. 

“Ummmm…sure? But it’s not easy.” I smiled to myself as I watched her look at the diagram and the pieces strewn about.

She’s so cute trying to assemble the stupid little cabinet. Poor kid. I should probably stop her before she gets frustrated.

“The diagram is a joke and the screws keep getting stuck and we should probably just wait until the guys get-” and I stop.

Ya’ll. 

As I’m thinking and talking this girl has already correctly reassembled what’s taken me almost two hours in a matter of two minutes.

“I love this kind of stuff.” She said. “Putting things together is one of my favorite things to do.”

I felt like a cartoon character. If my jaw could have physically dropped on the floor I think it would have.

In a whipsered scream of exasperation I say "WHY didn’t you say you wanted to do it when she asked for volunteers???”

“You seemed like you really wanted to help.” She said with a shoulder shrug.

You seemed like you really wanted to help.

Man, do those words get me into trouble. I have really good intentions, but sometimes people don’t need my help. They don’t need me to swoop in and save the day. They don’t need me to fix things that aren’t broken, or even try to assemble things that are. Sometimes the person has it under control. Like my teacher with the apple juice. Or Michael and his own personal opinions on green beans or Barney the dinosaur. Or middle schoolers with an unreal superpower to assemble furniture.

This is hard for me to admit, but do you know who else really doesn't need my help?

God.

He doesn't need me to fix things. He doesn't need me to meddle with things. He doesn't need me to panic and obsess over things. He's God. He is good. And He's got this. 

God doesn't need my help to make His job any easier. He won't be disappointed in me for asking for help when I need it. He won't be angry. He won't be sad. He won't be stressed out. He doesn't need my help to make His life any easier. He doesn't need my help to do everything on the planet. That's not my job. That's His job. MY job is to be readily available for Him to use me when He needs to use me  WANTS to use me. He doesn't really need me at all. 

He can hold an ocean back with a shore. An ocean that he can measure in the palms of his hands! 

Have you seen an ocean before folks? It's ginormous. It covers most of our planet. 

Have you washed your face off recently? Have you seen how much water you can hold in your hands? (Hint: It's not that much...) 

God is HUGE. Bigger than anything we could imagine. He is powerful, and he is more than capable of doing absolutely anything and everything completely on His own. He doesn't need me to help with anything, but He blesses me by allowing me to! Not because He needs me to prove myself or my worth to Him or to the people around me, but because He knows that it will glorify who He is.

Sooooooooo what do you do when you realize that your eager, Type-A, overbearing helpfulness isn't always the answer to everything? When you realize that a lot of time people have it under control and you don't need to swoop in and save the day? When you realize that God doesn't need your help in controlling the universe?

Most people would be relieved.

Melissa Jennings kind of freaked out. 

Because helping is what I feel like I'm kind of good at. I don't have any cool talents. I'm not very interesting. I'm not very brave. I'm not double jointed, and I don't have the ability to lick my nose with my tongue, so I'm pretty ordinary.

So, first, my pride took a big beating. 

But I don't have a pride problem!!!

That's what I said. But I've realized recently that people with pride issues probably wouldn't walk around saying that they have a pride issue...that would make them kind of humble. Which is the opposite of prideful, so you can see the contradiction there. I'm definitely more prideful than I care to admit, and that's a scary thing to face sometimes. Because the reality is that I do NOT know better than God does. I don't get to make this picture perfect life plan and tell God that this is how we're going to do it. How arrogant is that? And then to get mad and throw a hissy fit when it's not going my way? Seriously? 

Second, I realized how completely ridiculous it is to worry about things that I have absolutely no control over.

Psh I never worry about anyt-

Just kidding. 

If you know me at all you know I worry if the wind blows funny, or if my phone makes a weird noise. BUT, I will say that I'm slowly realizing that panicking about...like...literally anything...is not helpful to God. It's not helpful to you. It's not helpful to me. It's not really helpful at all. So now when I catch myself hyperventilating over due dates or assignments I can calm myself down a little quicker.

Then, I began to find the freedom that comes with Grace and the Gospel.

B...b...but I know what the Gospel is. I know what Grace is.

Yes, but I don't always act like it. There's a difference between living with the head knowledge of the truth and living like you believe the truth. And when you stop walking around with this urgent agenda of I have to do more and be more and do better and be better you're able to take a deep breath and just be. Period. 

Apple Juice and Cabinets don't define me.

And by that I mean that every failed attempt at helping someone that has backfired or gone horribly awry does not define me. The fear of disappointment and failure doesn't define me. And if this is what you struggle with, it doesn't define you either. It's easier to say it than to believe it, but the love and grace of Christ is what defines us. 

He doesn't need my help, but I know I need His. And tonight I'm thankful for every bit of grace He has given me and every mercy that He has made new every morning. 

I hope you find some peace in those promises too. It's good to be reminded sometimes. :)

Love ALL the Sinners. Hate ALL the Sin.

Love the sinner. Hate the sin.

If you've been a Christian for any amount of time, I'm sure you've heard the phrase.

If you aren't a Christian, I'm sure you've heard the phrase too, and I would like to personally apologize to you for how Christians use it.

When Christians say "Love the sinner, hate the sin." it's usually in a context where we're belittling the actions of a non-believer. We're usually on the outside looking in, judging him or her for whatever situation is going on in their life, and we essentially put our hand over our heart and say with our big doe eyes and thick southern accents "Bless their heart...don't hate who they are, just hate what they're doing." And then we puff up our chests, fill ourselves with pride, and put a metaphorical gold sticker in our good deed book for the day. Then we walk around as if we have a blue ribbon on our shirt that says "Ooooh! Look at me! I loved someone hard to love today."

And we wonder why nonbelievers think Christians are hypocritical and judgmental?

The phrase itself holds some validity. We should love sinners, and we should hate sin. But we shouldn't just hate the sins of nonbelievers. We should hate all sin. Right? Unless I'm missing something.

We shouldn't say we hate violence when we aren't grieving over the ill thoughts we have towards others in our lives or on the news.

We shouldn't hate the sin found in homosexual relationships portrayed in the media without despising the gossip that takes place in our church lobby.

We shouldn't hate the sin of premarital sex without being disgusted by the sin of our own lustful thoughts.

 Somehow loving sinners and hating sin became this wedge that created a barrier between "Us versus Them" "Christians versus Non-Christians" and it makes me so sad.

I refuse to believe that I am above any sinner just because I'm a Christian. I have hope for my future because of who Christ is and what He has done in me, I have joy than can exceed all of my circumstances, and I have a relationship with my heavenly father who is the king of heaven and earth. A non-believer doesn't have hope for what's to come after death, will experience sorrow without having the peace that comes from an eternal joy in who Christ is, and doesn't have a relationship with Christ.

That's the difference between a believer and a non-believer.

Who made up this bogus story that Christians are out there in the world leading these perfect lives without struggles, without failures, without sins and that we are somehow better than the people who openly have issues or battles that they're fighting?

Tell them to go sit on a cactus.

Today alone I know I've gossiped, I've probably lied, I directed a very mean word...or maybe string of words at a guy who cut in front of me on summer avenue, I thought extremely judgmental things about people around me, I've said the Lord's name in vain, and who knows what else. :( That's just TODAY! I don't want to think about the past couple of days, or the past couple of weeks. You'd be reading about how awful I am for the rest of your three day weekend. And I would hope and pray that if people were praying for me they wouldn't say "Love Melissa, but hate everything that isn't perfect about her." in a cruel, judge-y, malicious way. I hope they would say "Love Melissa. Pray for Melissa. Ask Melissa how we can help her. Hold Melissa Accountable. Help Melissa overcome what's going on in her life. Ask God to move in mighty ways and help Melissa overcome some of the battles she's facing in her life."

Love the non-believer, love the struggling christian. Love the agnostic. Love the strongest believer you know. Love the atheist with a heart full of cynicism the same way you love your pastor with a heart full of sharing the gospel and reaching lost souls. Love the people in your life that you don't understand, love the people in your life that you're with all the time. Extend grace over and over again, and thank God for extending that grace to you. Begin each morning with a new outlook on the people around you, and remain thankful for the mercies that our new each morning from God.

We know sin is bad. We don't need high and mighty people pointing their fingers around and ranking how poorly everyone is doing. That's not helpful to anyone. Actively pursuing relationships with people and choosing to go out of your way to love them? If we all did that then we would have to shut down the news stations, because the news would have absolutely nothing to report on.

Glimpses of Hope

*One I wrote and never posted. I realize it's August and I'm talking about my Easter celebration. It's just because I wrote it out a while back...*

Let me just tell you about my day:

We had some family over to celebrate Easter, and we ate ate ate ate ate lots of super yummy food, hung out, caught up on life, and just spent time together.

My friend Elizabeth came over a few hours later and we went to a cookout at another friend's house and ate ate ate ate ate some more super yummy food, hung out, caught up on life, watched kids hunt for Easter eggs, tossed a couple of raw eggs back and forth, and just spent time together.

Elizabeth and I went and saw A Case for Christ, and can I just say wow? Like...wow wow wow. I'm usually not a big fan of Christian movies, but this one was SO good! I won't give anything away, but if you haven't seen it yet I HIGHLY recommend it.

We then went to Target and found our friend Grace.

Grace, Elizabeth, and I went to TCBY and met up with my brother and our friend Billy.

We laughed. We laughed until we cried. We laughed and laughed and laughed until we couldn't breathe.

We drove home and jammed out to Carry On My Wayward Son...because apparently that's what you do when you're on a sugar high and can't stop laughing.

We sang worship songs when we had calmed down.

And oh my heart- how full it is!!

Because here's the glorious thing that I just can't stop smiling about...

I saw a glimpse of heaven today. And I know that sounds like such a cheesy, roll-your-eyes, 'super christian', bible thumping thing to say, so hear me out.

 A glimpse was in knowing that I will get to spend eternity with my brothers and sisters in Christ, with my family of believers, fellowshipping and celebrating what Christ has done for the rest of forever. Just like I celebrated today with my family, and then with a family of Christian friends too!

A glimpse was sitting in the movie theater after the movie had ended and being so overwhelmed by what I had seen that I just sat there as the credits rolled in a stunned silence.

A glimpse in celebrating life with some of my closest friends, looking around the table, laughing hysterically over inside jokes and silly things...and knowing that what brought us together and made us so close was a mutual love for the Lord. (Except my brother Michael...biology brought us close together, but even if he wasn't my brother I think he would be my friend. Don't tell him that though)

We could sing and dance and be goofy, but we also had absolutely no problem at all singing worship songs just as loudly with the windows rolled down, the music turned up, and the smell of a nasty skunk on I-40 totally ruining the moment.

This is what it's about guys. Finding Jesus in these small, every day moments. And when you open your eyes and realize He is absolutely everywhere and in absolutely every thing, you see a glimpse of what our eterenity will be like.

I don't know what tomorrow is going to hold for me. It might be frustrating and crazy, and I might go from being on this spiritual high to being in one of the lowest dumps I've ever been in. Who knows? I know that I can cling to the hope in Jesus being in my big moments and the small ones too. And that, my friends, is worth every second of it all.

We have this hope for our future, in that knowing that Christ is our eternity.