Jesus Gives Me Butterflies

The air was clean and fresh, and in it spoke a sense of wonder. The silence, with a fire of peace, whizzed past my ears as the wheels beneath my feet carried me across the pavement. A wholesome sigh left the cavity of my chest, and I smiled with ease as a shudder of butterflies flitted through my stomach. The realness of God consumed me, and in the trees He spoke of love and wonder. A confirmation.

Just minutes before, we had been in the common room- sprawled upon the dense furniture, eating rice krispy treats that a dear friend had made. The conversation aired of wonderment, grace, and the love affair we all share with our Savior. Never could there be a more encouraging scene than the spontaneous telling of stories: the way God has moved in our lives, the way He has worked in our dreams, the hopes that we have for the lost.

I was astounded by genuineness and honesty as stories of trials laced with hope, and fears counteracted by prayer, poured forth.

And was floored by the way God revealed the deeper similarities of heart I share with my siblings in Christ.

But as we left, I could hardly hold it together; it felt like Christmas morning. So instead of going upstairs right away, I went for a ride on my longboard- if only to feel the aliveness God has bestowed upon me, and if only for a moment.