.I Want My Jesus.

He had colored the little black and white drawing of Jesus, who was now glued to a Popsicle stick. Another paper was glued with white, puffy cotton balls in an attempt to look like clouds. Jesus could carefully be pushed through the slit in the cloud paper to look as if He was ascending into heaven. Scotty is always really proud of the papers he colors in Sunday School. He was especially fond of this one. Perhaps it was the ability to move Jesus in and out of the clouds - fascinating for a two year old I am sure.

On the way home from church, Scotty was strapped in his car seat happily playing with his Sunday School Jesus and Jim was driving. It was just the two of them that morning as Cadi and Jamesy were not feeling well, so I stayed home to care for them. All of sudden Jim heard crying and screaming coming from behind him.

I want my Jesus!

I want my Jesus!

I want my Jesus!

Scotty had dropped the Popsicle stick that had Jesus glued to it.

As Jim told me of this account after arriving home, my thoughts slowed and stilled. When was the last time I had cried out like that?

When was the last time I truly yearned and cried for my Jesus? When would nothing else and no one else do? In that moment, Scotty was so consumed by Jesus (yes, his Popsicle stick one) that nothing else could satisfy his longing. Am I consumed by my Jesus or am I letting other things, other people satisfy the longing?

Today I will walk in the presence of Jesus. I am purposing to long for Him- my rescuer - the One who redeemed my soul and pours His grace out over me.

Today I will abide in him, because I want my Jesus.