So, it's been over a month since my last post!

Wow, there is much to talk about.

I recently took the family on a trip to Disney World, and it was fantastic! I haven't had that much fun in a very long time, and I haven't had that much physical pain as well. I will be updating with pictures very soon, but I want to tell you what I have discovered in the last month. See the last part of this post for info on where to find the updates, because this here party will be moving soon...

Since February, a very important part of my life has been changing in dynamic ways. In past posts, I haven't tried to hide the fact that this large part of my life is my relationship with God. This is drastically different from the mindset that possessed me several years ago, and many from those days may not be able to see past who I was to discover who I am.

On with the show...

People don't like religion. They get angry when religious fanatics force their snooty nose into their business. They get defensive when outsiders trash what they see as their life. They get steamed when they feel self doubt and embarrassment. They see this intrusion as the gold-standard to measure all of "those religious freaks" by.

I feel the same way.

When I grew up, I often thought that my home was the buckle on the "bible belt" of America. I grew up hearing messages of "fire and brimstone" that left my soul somewhat numb to the effects of the gloom and doom genre of preaching. It was a regular occurrence to hear about how everything that I really "enjoyed" was going to hold my soul captive. Honestly, I quit paying attention long before I really ever took my little foray into the "things of this world."

I know that sounds extremely critical, and I need to clarify something. The pastor of my youth - Doyle Ferguson - is a man that is close to God's heart. I have no doubt that he heard (and still hears) from the voice of God on a daily basis. What I am saying is that I wish his teaching could have occurred in my present place in life so that I could retain more of what was said. Not everyone is as lucky to have that kind of opportunity for Godly influence in their lives. I am lucky to have a second chance at it now that I am older.

The reason that I grew calloused to those opportunities for growth is that I never cultivated a personal relationship with God. I always left those kinds of things to chance, and I am truly sorry to admit that. Later in my life, I allowed many other things to spoil the chances that I had to repair the broken relationship that was there. With this in mind, I am asking myself difficult questions.

What can I do to keep that from happening to someone else?

What have I done to interfere with another's quest for peace?

How can I stop hurting and start helping?

Love is a peculiar little word. It brings about many different emotions in people. Some have been hurt by it, others did the hurting through it. Some find strength in it, and yet others see it as their ultimate weakness. Things like divorce can tag "love" with the mark of hatred and betrayal. Couples that once were inseparable become bitter through an onslaught of sharp words that are thrown around. Opposing families sometimes join in the fight as well, further distancing the two hurting parties even more. Some have had their worlds crushed by things that masquerade as love, and they cannot ever see their life with "love" playing a vital role again. Perverse things may have broken their soul, and they are glad to be free of it.

I heard a comment on another blog - It may have been the Mars Hill blog - that told about a circle of acquaintances in Las Vegas. These strippers had tattoos that read "Daddy's Girl." These ladies were the victims of molestation at the hands of their fathers, and their tattoos were something that banded them together.

So, love is not always heard and accepted with the same fervor. Telling someone "Jesus loves you" can bring about terrible reminders that have been kept at bay for a lifetime. With this thought driving my intent, I discover that I have to be careful of what I say and how I say it. It becomes much simpler to just show love, and let the action do the talking. Sure, these actions are not always accepted easily either, but they are less abrasive than words. If the action is offered in the true spirit of love, then doors open much quicker than they close.

My Church is taking this summer to do service projects in our community. This is one way that we can show love without having to tell about it. We can start relationships with others around us, and we can build friendships on the foundation of God's love. I heard something both at the Easter Egg Hunt, and at the Block Party at Casa 'de Slemmon's last week.

"So what are y'all doing this for, anyway?"

My response - "You."

"What do you mean, Me?"

"Well, there are enough things out there that take advantage of people. We just want to put something out there that doesn't."

"That's it? You sure that's all you're doing? What's the catch..."

"No, that's it. No catch, no strings attached. We just wanna share our hot-dogs and bounce houses over a free night of fun for you and your family. We hope you have fun, that's it."

"Oh, OK. That's cool, man."

That's usually the last response before guards fall down. People realize that they don't need to be cleaned up for "religious freaks" to start to care about them. They start to see that those "nut-jobs" might not be all that crazy after all. That feeling that starts to soften hurts that have held on for far too long is love, and it's contagious. This kind of love draws people closer instead of polarizing them to the point of separation. This is what we owe our fellow inhabitants of planet Earth - true love.

Borrowing from Penn (of Penn and Teller) - check out the video below. The 3:00 mark is what resonates so strongly with me...

"How much do you have to hate someone..."


Oh, by the way, I am going to stop using Blogger for my blogposts. I have set up an account on Wordpress, and I will be updating pictures from the vacation on it as well. To check it out, click on the link

Wow, it’s been over a month since my last post. Didn’t plan on things taking that long, but I wanted to wait until I thought I had something good to say. After you read this, you may think that I should have waited a little longer...

In the last month, I have re-connected with many friends that knew the person that I used to be. I found that Facebook is kind of nice, and it has opened my eyes to the transformations of many of my previous acquaintances. I also found that it is easy to get lost in the colossal world of social networking. If you are reading this now while trying to figure out the person that you used to know, you will see that I am a changed man.

If you are reading this now and feel that you know the person that I am today, you too will see that I am a changed man.

With that out of the way…

Easter Sunday – Probably the most important day for anyone that even aspires to be religious.

Religious – This word has started to leave a filmy, undesirable taste in my mouth lately. It is easy to get caught up in the web of legalistic, traditional practices that masquerade as sound spiritual guidance.

Salvation – I saw this on Saturday and Sunday of this past week. This is where this train of thought leaves the station. Hold on tight now, kiddies…the ride may get a little bumpy.

We served our community on Saturday morning. That statement makes me feel absolutely ecstatic. We cooked over 1,200 hotdogs, hid over 30,000 eggs, landed a helicopter in our church yard, and had numerous games and door-prizes - all for our community. It was nice to see smiles and hear cheers. It thrilled my soul to see my church filled to capacity with people that just needed a break from stress. It was no secret that many of our attendees weren’t from the side of the city that has hidden from stress of a bad economy. I saw the look of relief (the look that only comes from a burden being lifted) plastered across the faces of countless people streaming through the food lines. I looked as people just kept coming, an endless array of people and kids; families that jumped at the chance for a free lunch and an afternoon of fun. I heard words of gratitude from so many that it started to be overwhelming. I like that feeling.

I saw kids going through the line that were absolutely enamored with the spread of hotdogs, chips, and drinks. It was easy to see that many had not had that kind of treat in sometime…a hotdog, a bag of chips, and a cold soda. I could tell that many had not had that kind of choice in the selection of their treats in sometime…a grilled hotdog with a selection of condiments, three different kinds of chips, and four different choices of beverage. One group of siblings came up to say thanks for the "awesome lunch" as we were starting to clean up. The smallest followed his "thanks mister" with a small request. He could barely see over the edge of the table, but his words smacked me in the soul.

"Do you think I could have one more of those hotdogs, please sir?"

"Did you enjoy them?" I inquired...

"Yessir, they were yummy. I hadn't had one in a long time, and I sure would like another if you have extra." His words spilled out like they had been held in for quite a while. He looked over at his mother to make sure that he hadn't embarrassed her. I know that look, because I gave it when I was young. My exuberance usually got my words out too quick, and jeopardized my request too often. Her approving look was given, relieving both of us.

I tried to not tear up with him standing there. These were no special hotdogs. They were the cheap-o hotdogs with turkey, pork, and chicken. They were Oscar Mayer, but that was as special as it got. They had gotten a little cold from sitting out, and the buns had gotten a little stale from sitting in the sun. My legs ached from standing, and I burned my arms while cooking to start the day off. Not everything had gone according to plan, and I heard many complaints during the day. I have to say, though - none of that mattered at that frozen moment in my memory. The knot in my throat was the size of a basketball. I shook my head yes. and he glanced over at his mom for final approval.

The relief on her face was breathtaking. She motioned towards the rest of her brood - maybe 5 more little kids - in order to request extras for them as well. I thought she couldn't speak English, but I am just now realizing that she was probably in the same predicament that I was in.

I managed a head nod, and they cautiously proceeded to the table. They didn't rush or fall over one another in an attempt to secure an extra treat on this extra special day. They lined up and moved with respect, smiles covering the most room possible on their grimy little fun-stained faces. They all got their extra hotdog, and trotted off with a little more bounce than what they came with. I watched as they walked away, their bags stuffed to the brim with candy and gentle reminders of the true love of Christ. It was one of the most happy moments that I can remember, and one of the saddest at the same time.

My heart breaks now at the realization of what is in my fridge. I don’t care too much for that feeling.

The most heart-breaking realization that I’ve had regarding this past Easter weekend is that over 100 people came face-to-face with Jesus. Over 100 people looked in the face of hope, peace, love, grace, and mercy; just to name a few of His excellent character-qualities. Was this the culmination of weeks of planning, followed by hours and hours of dedication? Was this the result of an absolutely stunning worship service on Sunday? Maybe this was the reaction that resulted from LFA’s action of furthering the cause of Christ in our community. This is a great feeling, but it breaks my heart because it is only pushed with absolute fervor a few times every year. This is where I might hurt some feelings.

Why does it just happen on special events like Easter? Keep in mind that I am asking myself the same question. Would I be willing to dedicate just as much of myself to making this kind of event happen once each month? It would be impossible to cook that same amount of hotdogs and have those same activities every month, but I don’t think that God is asking for that. After all, Jesus fed a whole mess of people with some fish and a few pieces of bread. The intent is what I think He focuses on. I think He is asking us to invite our waiters and waitresses to church more often than the few weeks leading up to our Easter Egg-Stravaganza.

I would also like to see monthly events - smaller in scale if necessary - that minister to our community, but I don’t think that the responsibility should fall on the shoulders of our already stretched church staff. We have over 150 stunning volunteers that give all of themselves – plus a little extra – every time that an event is held. Can’t we make it happen more often?

For the masses that peruse these pages, I ask for your input. Would you be willing to volunteer on a monthly or bi-monthly basis if someone were to do the leg-work to set community outreach projects up? If so, leave a comment at the end of the post and let’s get things rolling.

I would love to see more grimy, fun stained faces...

I haven't updated in more than a few days, but hopefully this will make up for the time lag.

I feel like life these days has been like a romantic dinner in a nice restaurant with the one that you love. The dinner has been one that was planned ages ago, and every infinitesimal detail has been orchestrated so that the experience delivers stunning results. Soft music drifts in the background, and the hushed sound of conversations adds to an overall subtle elegance of the evening. You can imagine candlelight and the crisp linen table coverings that match the interior design of an outstanding establishment. The food is exceptional and delightful, and it would seem impossible to improve on the brilliance of the moment.

Then a yelp, followed by the sound of chaos initiating itself. A waiter stumbles and crashes into the edge of your table, propelling the beauty of the moment into a chaotic shower of "good grief, what is happening?" As the world comes to a screeching, grinding. explosive halt, you are left wondering "what...how...where did...huh?" Even the best plans can go awry...

It brings to mind the image of a circus performer spinning plates. When these displays were on the tube in my childhood, I would sit glued to the TV set. The impossible product of controlled chaos that was playing out before my eyes would enrapture my imagination. All that could be said was "how are they doing that?" The artist would dart from plate to plate, tapping and nudging these wads of energy so that the entirety of the picture stayed intact. One dish would wobble, struggling in it's effort to deliver the inevitable, but quick attention kept it at bay. You could almost feel the "snowball-running-downhill" effect. A little saucer goes unnoticed, and then order is restored - quick, loud, destructive order.

Sometime ago, I resolved to not put myself in the position to be the patsy for this kind of spectacle again. I have left jobs, ended commitments, and changed direction more times than I care to admit to, but the chaos usually ends up finding me. This time, I have help in keeping the plates off the sticks and in the cabinet where they belong. I am realizing that a quiet, intimate moment held in my little back yard under the bathing beauty of moonlight can be just as spectacular as the ones held in the fabricated beauty of an elegant dining hall. I guess that what I am realizing is this: the one you are with makes the moment special.

My wonderful wife helps to keep chaos at bay. I don't have to dress things up, or make a big to-do in order to gain her affection. All I have to do is mean what I am doing. Investing time and consideration in the relationship is far more important than the decorations that we have to look at during our time together. In fact, these decorations often provide distraction that takes my focus away from the most important part of the event - her. I never once mentioned the careful consideration that she put into the garment that she wore for the beautiful evening in the opening paragraph. I never described the intricacy that was devoted to her hair style, or the selection of the accompanying jewelry and other accessories that complimented her. This was all lost in the moment.

The same can be said of our relationship with our creator. I allow so much chaos into my life. I give permission to so many things that cause uproar and upheaval, but I seldom ever invest in stabilizing things - things that promote peace.

The other night, I put the kids to bed and ended the day with a moment under the stars. I took my guitar out to the back patio in my darkened yard to sit alone with my thoughts. I played a few chords, and it was amazing how big the sound was. The same strum in the house was wasted on the inanimate objects that tried to soak up the sound. Playing in the yard allowed the notes to dance with the wind. It allowed loving words of worship for my creator to finally escape the chains that held them in my soul. It allowed me to let the plates fall and sweep the pieces of chaos up. The result was a breath of true fresh air.

I am a blessed man. I have friends and loved ones that pitch in at a moments notice with no hesitation to help out with what I wedge myself into. Recently, I cooked a massive amount of food for my Pastor's retirement celebration. My mom and dad cooked 10 briskets and then helped to cut and pan all of the food. My wonderful wife changed out pans and washed dishes for the 20 briskets that I cooked. They took their lives and gave them to me for an entire week. In fact, my parents couldn't stay for the dinner, and my wife wrangled kids while I ate and received thanks. I am honored to have them dedicate themselves to me.

We cooked nearly 600 pounds of meat, and it was an amazing thing to see all of that food being enjoyed by my church family. I received so many compliments that I didn't deserve. I did a simple thing for an extraordinary event, and I wish that people would have directed their thanks and appreciation to the people that decorated and organized a stunning dinner celebration. I am absolutely grateful for the loving words that were piled on me, I just hope that they were even more generous to everyone else that worked and planned the event.

Great food isn't great food unless you have great people to serve it. That same food can't be enjoyed if they don't set up tables so that people can be seated while dining. That dinner wouldn't have tasted as good if the breathtaking decorations were not there to complete the experience. The dinner would have just been a dinner without the carefully crafted planning and orchestration that was done behind the scenes. Tim was even downloading music in the kitchen so that they could present Pastor Carter in style. The same fantastic crew that did all of the back-breaking labor stayed to clean up and polish the place before we left.

I am in awe of their dedication and selfless devotion. They make it easy to volunteer.

Today, Tim is in Dallas picking up a new drum set for me to play on for Sunday. Wednesday night, he and Eddie Goode asked my opinion as to what I wanted to play on. I bared my soul a little, and gave them my list. It felt like talking to Santa months before Christmas. I didn't think that I would get what I was asking for, but I had to answer truthfully. I value their questions as much as I value their friendship. They both admitted that drums and percussion gear were not their areas of expertise.

With that said, I have to say this - If I ever had a question about anything that remotely involved a guitar or stringed instrument, I would go to the scrolls of Eddie Goode for my knowledge. Tim would be the oracle for anything involving piano, sound equipment, electrical innovation, video editing, multimedia presentation, and the list goes on. I am surrounded with people that are passionate about what they do and what is being done through them.

It was an amazing compliment for these men that I hold in such a high position of regard in my life to ask my opinion on something as important in my life as music ministry. After my latest conversation with them, I am honored that my opinion mattered.

All said, this is a great Friday. I am going home on the high of great compliments from great people, and I will get to spend this weekend setting up and playing a beautiful new instrument. For a musician, that is a great privilege. In my job, I was evaluated this week as well. I was once again complimented far more than I deserved to be. I am gratefully humbled.

As I contemplate the week's events, I come to a conclusion: Compliments mean more when the people that are delivering them mean so much to you. Compliments spread joy and happiness.

What are you spreading?

I am sitting in the dark in a West Virginia hotel room tonight. We lost our power earlier this evening, and I now know what "dark" means. It seems that God has forced me to turn off the TV and focus on Him tonight. For the record, I am really enjoying it.

I wasn't looking forward to this week. I didn't have joy in my heart for any part of the trip. I dreaded the flight up, the drive to and from the shop every day, the work that I would have to do while I was here, the drive up to Pittsburgh on Saturday, the flight out of Pittsburgh, and the missing my family every second of the week. I really didn't want to travel, and I was a bear for the days that preceded my departure. I have wasted the trip so far by watching TV until my eyes forced my brain into sleep. Tonight, I intended to make an effort to sit and write a bit. I guess that I couldn't fool God, because He took out the cable so that I would have to be a man of my convictions.

Sitting tonight, I have several topics that are stumbling through my mind. I think that I will write about something that took root in my heart last week. I have kids, and they are a tremendous blessing to me. They teach me things when I am teaching them things. I find it humbling that this exchange of instruction takes place, and I am grateful that God uses them to get to me. My topic tonight will cover how they came into this world.

Labor Pains - My wife has given birth to 3 kids in the last 6 years. 3 times, she has watched her body transform into a life-giving chamber. 3 times, her body has grown and stretched to accommodate the miracle of life. I have been impressed with her strength and courage too many times to count, but these 3 moments have been poignant instances of this character as well. She is personally responsible for the most wonderful things in my life on this earth, and I am honored to call her mine.

Birth is the culmination of many months of behind the scenes work. Conception starts the life cycle, and the speed of the process takes flight immediately. Cells start to divide and develop, organs and tissue start to take form, bones and muscles start to give structure and definition, and brain tissue and other electronic impulses forge along in constructing the highway of thought and imagination. It is a busy time just after conception, but the intense and strategic series of events that are orchestrated in the womb will not be felt or seen by anyone for sometimes weeks. The mother senses some discomfort, purchases the pregnancy test, and the rest is just the beginning.

My spiritual life correlates closely to this pattern in many ways. God conceives a thought or dream in my heart. Just like the newly formed fetus in the womb, this growing desire must be fed and nourished properly for it to come into an existence separate from the loving womb that God places it in. Pre-natal care for this new and exciting thing is very important to it's life, and my dedication must be properly focused so that we can both mature correctly. If I don't do my part in guiding this dream along, I could hinder the life of the dream. I will also put myself through a difficult birthing process, and discomfort will force my dedication.

Our first pregnancy was tough on my wife. She was extremely sick, and she lost a great amount of weight. There were times that I hated myself for putting her through what she was going through. I felt guilty because she couldn't eat or smell anything cooking without rushing to another room. During labor, she had to be rushed into a blinding emergency room. The doctors and nursing staff flooded the room and ushered her out of my sight. I panicked and grabbed a nurse that went rushing by.

I am not sure what exactly I said, but it forced her to provide me with a gown and the other necessary equipment that was needed so that I could be a part of the birth. Time seemed to stand still, and I could feel my heart in my throat. The doctor told me about different possibilities that could happen, and my mind started to spin out of control. Words like "Distress," and "Fatal Consequences" assaulted my spirit and heart. I was informed that I stood the possibility of losing both my wife and child if action was not taken immediately. I went from the highest of highs to the lowest and loneliest of lows in a matter of seconds.

The next thing that I knew, I was holding my wife's hand as our precious little baby boy entered the world. His little muffled cry was the sweetest thing that I can remember. It changed everything about me. The birth of dreams that God has given me carries the same magnitude of happiness. The pain that accompanied the growing process enters my mind only when I choose to think about it. The joy that is felt on the "birthday" of those dreams overshadows even the most intense moments of pain that accompanied the labor process. The labor pains are tough, but they are an indication of a healthy and fully matured birth.

There are still dreams in the womb of my heart. I know that dedication will have to take place, and that labor pains will follow. Still, the thought of the tough growing process will only make the "birthday party" preparation all the more momentous.

I have started a project that involves the improvement of my soul. I am taking an inventory of my life, and I intend to start investing in the things that help to improve and stabilize my relationship with God. The flip-side of this is the disposal of things that aren't so important.

One of the things that I started to move toward the trash can has shown itself different in a new light. I have seen my job as one of the major things that did nothing for my soul. It provided a living for my family, but it caused heartache, heartburn, and disgust. I often find myself taking on projects that force me to neglect parts of my life that are far more important, and this usually happens despite my greatest attempts to stifle this tendency. I then feel taken advantage of, and I seldom realize that I was the one that set the wheel in motion.

I realized a few weeks ago that it is my choice to honor God in everything I do. This isn't exclusive to just worship services on Sunday mornings at LFA. It has to be a choice that I make each and every day. It has to be a decision that stays fresh on my mind throughout the day, and I am the one that gives into anything that causes me to deviate from that path. In this sense, I have experienced a feeling of freedom lately that has refreshed my mind. I choose to keep God first, and He makes it easy to do so.

My job is in inventory. I track parts that are used and manage inventory investment dollars. A large drive behind this is to make sure that we stock what we need, and we get rid of what we don't need. When I look at this from a spiritual standpoint, I start to realize that God has been preparing me for management of my spiritual investment. In a few days, I will post the list that I am working on. Until then, have you thought about what you have invested yourself in?

Psalms 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God! I will be honored by every nation. I will be honored throughout the world.”

Last night, I resumed my reading of The Purpose Driven Life and I experienced one of the most (if not the most) intense physical encounters with my God that I have ever had. For the first time since the moment of my salvation, I felt truly, absolutely saved. I honestly needed it, and God renewed his covenant of love with me in that moment.

When I picked the book up, it was a victory for my soul that resulted from a battle with my flesh. I intended to tune in to the latest edition of sports news, or peruse the airways for anything that would catch my eye. I had just put the kids to bed, and the house was quiet for the first time of the evening. I wanted some time to just be quiet and absorb something until time arrived for sleep. Instead of picking up the remote, I gathered my book and the daily devotional that goes with it, and settled into my chair. As I began to read, my mind was absolutely flooded with junk from the day. Thoughts of work, solutions to problems, concerns with the economy, concerns for friends that are affected by the economy, and many other things were jockeying for position as my mind raced. I honestly couldn't tell you what any of the first page said, and I really wanted to get something out of my reading. I put down the book and said a quick prayer.

I prayed that God would calm the waters of my mind. I prayed that he would lay siege to the battles that were going on in my thoughts, and that He would rid my mind of the concerns and worry that were weighing me down. I wanted to be able to focus, and I couldn't with the chaos that was in progress. It was a quick prayer, but it worked immediately. It may seem ridiculous, but I am a visual person. I try to imagine things when I think about them, and it has worked well for me in the industry that I work in. I work out the solutions in my mind, and then try to convey what I have seen from behind the scenes. I do the same thing when I pray prayers like this.

I visualized choppy seas and a storm. I saw the water as it crested and crashed, and I heard the thunder as it roared across the face of the ocean. I could hear the explosions of the waves as they crashed against each other, and I could see the rain as it assaulted everything that was present. All at once, I felt lonely and vulnerable. I have never been through a storm at sea, but I imagine that it could be pretty intimidating. With no trees or other sound barriers, I imagine that the noise would be absolutely overwhelming, and the thought of it sends me into a panic. As I prayed, the picture in my minds' eye was an ocean that was suddenly and absolutely quiet. The winds and the waves stopped, and the surface of the water turned as smooth as glass. I could almost feel a slight breeze across my face, and I could hear the intense sound of peace. The clouds rolled back, and my soul was bathed in moonlight. I felt peace, I heard peace, and I could see peace. It was at that moment that I heard a slight whisper..."Be still, and know that I am God."

Goosebumps ran down my spine, and my soul started to tingle. In that moment, I realized that I was in the presence of the most powerful, most high God. Regal grace and compassion consumed me, and I felt like a lost child that had been found. My God had seen me, and He was lifting me out of my mind's chaos. There are no words that can adequately describe the feelings that I experienced. I honestly can say that I physically felt the presence of God, and I will not ever forget that feeling.

I believe that God puts things in our heart for us, and He gives us nuggets of wisdom that we are able to tap into in moments where we can't feel Him as closely as we want to. With that said, here is one of the things that God spoke into my heart.

If you are not where you are supposed to be, then it is because something hasn't moved. You shouldn't feel dismayed or tormented over this thought, you should look inward to make sure that you are not what is supposed to be moving. If you are not the issue, then take comfort in the fact that God is preparing the next step.

Our God is the creator of the universe. Genesis 1:1-2 1In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 2The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.

Take comfort in the fact that you were put here for a reason. Find sanctuary in the thought that God created everything, and He intended for us to be the caretaker for His creations. Genesis 1:28 And God blessed them. And God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth."

Maybe this helps you, and maybe you just feel that I am a little bit crazy for thinking that God would take the time to talk to me. For what it's worth, I am a nasty creature that has a history full of failures. The only thing that I do consistently is fail miserably, and it is also the thing that I am probably the best at.

The thing that allows me to think that God would speak to me is that He created me. He made me who I am, and He intended for me to travel the road that I have travelled. Last night, He welcomed me with open arms, and He washed me clean. He trimmed my hair and made me presentable. He restored me to the place that I was created for, and He put the elegant robes of royalty on my shoulders. He has given me the inheritance that I was created to have, and I am so truly humbled by His generosity. I guess that it holds so much weight because this is not the first time that He has done this for me. I have sought to squander my inheritance many times. I have lived life the way that I thought it should be lived, and I was wrong - every time.

I smile because the prodigal is no longer a long-lost son. I shout praises because I can feel the presence of my Heavenly Father. I have hope and peace because He has me in His arms once again.