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The light aqua, pistachio, seafoam green story of Jesus

Can we ever really get enough Jesus?
There have been many over the years that have told me that we put too much Jesus in this newspaper. I have been told that we should stick to the news and covering our local high schools. There has been a lot of thought directed towards that subject. Some call me simplistic. Maybe I am. But, here is what I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

There is a story in this issue about Stephanie Studdard. If you don’t know her, Stephanie was a top-class distance runner, before. She was an athlete extraordinaire, before.  Then came the day that forever changed her life, and she is today not the young lady that she was, before.
A single moment in time changed everything.

Every day since, she and her family have dealt with that moment in time that changed everything from before it. Stephanie went from a top-class athlete, to a young woman fighting to live. She did not die, she did not let the surgeries and physical therapy defeat her, and she didn’t give up. She went from being someone who may have never walked again, to a high school senior that is again out on a court playing sports for her Lady Bears.

I dare you to tell me Jesus is not a part of that story.
 

Another story you will read in this issue of your newspaper is the story of Jane Forrester. There are not a lot of folks that have endured what Jane has endured over the last several years. There have been trials that many would faint and give up. Jane’s is a story of courage and determination. It is a story of devotion and perseverance. It is also a story of a servant’s heart.

I dare you to tell me Jesus is not a part of that story.

Over the past weekend, my family and I remembered and cried over the second anniversary of the day my wife went to live in her mansion in Heaven. And there is no doubt in my mind that she has one there. It is stocked with gallons and gallons of sweet tea, pounds of all kinds of nuts, and there is more butter in her mansion that anyone could consume in a lifetime.
Sunday was that second anniversary. There were tears, but there are tears on any given day. There were memories relived, pictures thumbed through over and over, and there were songs played just for her. And, there was love. Each one of my kids did things to help me get through the day. While dealing with their own grief, they made sure their daddy was okay. One made sure I got lots of pictures of my grandchildren, one took me to lunch, and another showed me her mother in a way that she didn’t even realize.

Hollyann chose to keep her mind and heart busy this weekend painting her bedroom. She was meticulous. She taped things off and she spent much time picking out the various colors of paint. She then, without even realizing it until she was done, painted her bedroom the same color as her mama’s bedroom in the house she grew up in. Reborn was the same color that adorned the walls of her mama’s bedroom in Avery. Now there were Hollyann’s own touches of distinction. The three-toned doors are unique, and definitely her. She is a unique young lady. But inside, her mama lives.

Their mama lives inside each of my kids. She may sometimes be hard to see, but she will always be in there, sharing space with the Savior that she raised each of them to love. He may not be very well seen sometimes either, but I know He is in there.

I dare you to tell me Jesus is not a part of that story.

Let me end this way please.
Let Jesus be a part of your story. In our darkest days of grief and despair, He is there. As the disciples feared about a sinking ship, He told them not to fear and got them to the other side, even as the boat was breaking apart. When the boat of your life is breaking apart, He will get you to the other side as well. When your best friend leaves too soon, and you hurt and question, He is there.

How can we, in a world full of hate, not let Jesus be a part of our story?
 

Bowie County Citizens Tribune

139 E.N. Front Street
New Boston, Texas 75570