I can still remember my fifth birthday. I was wearing a light blue shirt with a sparkly pink design on it. We had Power Puff girl themed hats and tablecloths. My grandma and grandpa were present, my best friends got me the coolest gifts, I was surrounded by giggles, love, and innocence.
I am now less than two months away from 26 and I feel like I’ve hit a brick wall. Adulting isn’t everything it’s cracked out to be. The days at home, I took advantage of when I was younger. Going to friends homes, whom I no longer speak to, instead of enjoying the time with my parents... Being on my phone WAY too much when I am supposed to be listening or spending time with them... How could I have been so blinded? I should have known the time would fly. Now, 2.5 hour’s away...and the transition was hard. Knowing your mom is at home with an empty nest can really put things into perspective for you. The way I used to make her feel so crappy about not wanting to go out with other moms is actually embarrassing. Why did i want her to be like other moms? How could I not see she’s like no other mom I’ve ever come across in my entire life. She’s everything I want to be and more and I wish I would have seen that at a younger age.
Instead of regretting all of the time I spent worrying about the materialistic things of life or trying to change people into something they’re not... I gave my heart to someone I should have given my heart to long ago. Jesus.
Growing up, I went to church with my grandparents down the road. “Sunday School” is really the only thing I knew it by. At that age, I truly only looked forward to the snacks. I remember the man who usually spoke to all of the kids, his name was Jeff. Literally, the happiest and most genuine man I have ever met. I didn’t know that until much, later in life though.
My grandparents moved into a senior living condo complex after my grandpa had a fall on ice, breaking his shoulder and fracturing his hip. After that incident, we sort of stopped attending church. It was just to hard to get my grandpa around; he never really was the same after that.
Once my faith took a left turn, I never took the time to learn about God. I never picked up a bible but I called myself a Christian. I never repented for my sins and I probably only prayed to Him before a big exam or when I had a big game, or maybe when I felt ill. I’m not saying my heart instantly turned cold and I stopped believing God was real or believing in morals; that’s just not the case.
I call it my own journey. With highways, and hills, and mountains... the most scenic route you can think of and it’s nowhere near finished, (at least I hope not). But I’ve reached a mountaintop. And the view is beautiful.
This page will be my journey, my journey with Christ.