Hi Jesus, my name is Tammy.

Good Monday morning. We are definately into the swing of summer, bed times have laxed, no alarm clocks to be heard for mom and kids. The summer routine has officially taken hold.
Last week I grabbed a book from our book shelf to take to Dallas to pass the time in the hospital for Jack's MRI. I grabbed "Facing Your Giants" by Max Lucado. I had bought it for Rob for Christmas or birthday last year. It has been a good read. Max Lucado's books are always enjoyable. "Come Thirsty" is still my favorite of his.

Jack has been feeling back to normal for the most part. He hasn't felt sick in a week, so that is good news, and he is enjoying summer to the fullest.

I was reading a blog post that was forwarded to me from a friend, I couldn't make the link work. The post was written by a mom who had left her pursuit of faith behind years ago, and now she has a child, who has never gone to church or been around a community of faith, and she was feeling guilty. My friend said that it was a reading that had stuck with her, and it has with me also.

I believe that there are people all around us that feel this way. They are searching for a relationship with Jesus, but they walk into a church building and they are taught the rules, the traditions, joined into programs, pot luck luncheons, signed up for committee's and a host of other focuses. But where is Jesus? Where does their searching lead them? To a group of good people, doing good things, trying to help each other along. But I say again, where is Jesus? In that situation Jesus is in the details, He is in the heart of His believers. But for me I could not find Jesus in someone else's actions, I did not find Him from the words spoken from the pulpit, as inspirational as they are, I could not find a personal relationship with my Savior through anyone else but through my own seeking of Him. He was waiting for me all along, He was right by my side through the ugly and not so ugly, but when did my heart connect to Jesus? It was only when I realized that I was not the god of my life, and that finding Jesus was not on my terms but His.

There came a point in my journey that I realized God is not someone who is only part of my life for two hours on a Sunday morning. As American's we are taught about pride, rights, look out for number one, pull yourself up by your boot straps and I really lived each of those. I learned well. There came a time that I decided I wanted God, but I really did not know how to find Him. I looked for Him, I sang worship songs, but the words were empty, after all, I wasn't going to submit my life to anyone, I was in charge of me. I took communion to remember the crucifixion and resurrection, but Jesus died a long time ago, and the current sin I was in, really didn't matter, after all how does someone have fun if they don't party? For some strange reason I never found that connection on my part. Through the years I opened my eyes to the shiny surface of my life, that was completely empty below. My heart ached. Where was that connection made? On the floor of my bedroom down on my knee's pleading for God to be my God and to help me find Him. I would seek Him every day of my life, I would read His word and try to live a life that glorified Him and not me. And that was when my heart met His.

A year later I went back home to Arizona because a friend of mine was getting married. I was staying at a friends home, and one of their roomates questioned me about my new found Christianity. Their biggest problem with Christianity is that there are so many rules that it seemed impossible to even try. As a relatively new Christian at the time I didn't have the best answer, but I think I responded that it felt right, when nothing else did. And the rules...for me if I am trying to follow a dot to dot, or a color by numbers Christianity then there is something empty in that just like my life before. There is nothing to earn, for His grace fills in where I fall short.

When I turned my heart to God, the rest just fell into place. The sins one by one dropped off, because what felt right before, didn't feel right anymore. I grew alot through church and the fellowship of believers, but when I met Christ for the first time it was just me and Him, alone in my room, no pride left, only humility and a seeking heart. God tells us in scripture, seek Me with all of your heart and you will find Me. He would not settle for my left overs, he wanted all of me. Just as my husband wont settle for my leftovers, God wants my whole heart.

I feel blessed that I have a relationship with Jesus, but the seeking never ends, He calls me to pursue Him every day, and when I do I have the peace of heart that I could never even imagine 20 years ago. The story above is from when I was in my early twenties, now I am knocking on the door of my forties. But the moments are still vivid in my memory.

I had a basic understanding of Christianity because my family went to church while I was growing up. I was baptized for the forgiveness of sins and received the most precious gift of the Holy Spirit when I was about 13 years old. So basically I went home to what was at the bottom of my heart, which was put aside for a while.

God never stops calling us to Him, whether we just communed with Him, or if he was a long lost friend whom we haven't spoken to in years. Lift your eyes and behold His glory.