It stuck with me

A look. A prayer. An experience.

Advice. Prophecy. 

A picture.

For some reason, it stuck with you. 

Today on my morning commute, life was on schedule. Same roads, same radio station, same conversations with Sweetness. She was happy this morning which had both of us smiling and laughing the whole way to daycare. We made a special stop for coffee which means I have to then cut across 4 lanes to the turning lane so I can make a u-turn to continue going to daycare. I look both ways, some cars are coming but it is safe for me to get out in the lanes and start to merge. I'm laughing at Sweetness being silly and that's when I notice it. Car, after car, after car of scowling, serious, apathetic, monotone faces. Literally fifteen people void of emotion staring at the roads like drones. 

And that's when I remembered it. 

Highschool choir mission trip with my church. I was 15 years old, I think? I remember looking out in the crowd to see Mrs. Bandy holding up a sign that read "Don't chew" to make sure that we pronounced the words "Don't you" correctly in the song. As we looked in the crowd, remembered the notes, remembered the key changes, remembered the words, all while being away from home and exhausted and slightly nervous to be singing in front of random people we had never met in an apartment complex, we were slightly overwhelmed. At this moment, we would look to see our brilliantly talented leader Mr. Tony pointing to his smile on his face as he led the song and music. And we would all remember the conversation we had heard over and over: We should be smiling singing about Jesus. I remembered being mime, and other drama classes that pulled the joy and emotion of loving Jesus out of me without even spoken word. I remember learning very early that the joy of Christ is a fire that can not be contained. Thank you, Sparky. I remembered Mrs. Pam signaling to all of us to uncross our arms and look happy about what we were singing about. I learned that even through cold showers at 5am after sleeping a minimal amount of hours on a gym floor with only a sleeping bag, Jesus was worth smiling and singing about. And people needed to see that. 

I remember this always. In the back of my head, I have a reminder that Jesus is worth smiling about. 

Jesus is worth smiling about when my AC broke yesterday and it was 89 degrees in my house. 

Jesus is worth smiling about even though I have some heart issues I am dealing with.

Jesus is worth smiling about on a Tuesday morning BEFORE coffee *gasp!* while driving your sweet baby to daycare where someone else will get the pleasure of teaching her about life and Jesus for the next 10 hours. 

Thank you Tony, Pam, Elaine, Lisa and all the other people who poured love and joy into our lives growing up. 

I promise, at least in the back of our minds, it stuck with us.

It stuck with me.

Jesus is worth it. All the time.