Who is Kenny Loggins for 800?

As my heart is filled with joy and my stomach with spaghetti, I thought this would be a good time to write something down… because who needs sleep? First, I know what you’re thinking. Jess, you said you were going to get rid of Facebook, yet here you are commenting on baby pictures at an alarming rate with no end in sight. Or shall I say site? I know, it’s true. Indeed, this is a hard one to kick. Do I just get rid of it cold rotisserie chicken? Or do I slowly phase myself out defriending people in order of closeness until I’m left to live my own life just so I can post the  pictures on facebook and like them? Let’s not get drastic. Plus, I have just recently friended quite a few people… what’s that saying if I friend them and then leave? I haven’t even had a chance to like their sister’s best friend’s cousin’s daughter’s half birthday party pictures yet! That does it, I’ll keep it another week and then let you know. Great talk, I feel much better about this now. 

In other news, we had our small group party tonight which consisted of a game of Jeopardy, puzzle piecing and dinner. Not in that order, not that you care, but just in case my blog ever gets audited. Yikes. Anyways, tonight was fun. Nay, tonight was wonderful. Wonderfully funny and just all that stuff that you think of when you’re happy. Jesus, ponies, potatoes, the beach… You’re thinking of yours now aren’t you? Well, I truly do wish that for you. It seems as though every time I’ve been with my small group, I always think “man, I wish more people could be apart of this.” More people need to feel this kind of happiness. The same happiness that came when He pulled me out and saved me and gave me Blue Sky and then gave me this small group… and guess what? I get to do this for the rest of my life. I get to have moments of real pain, times of bliss and everything in between with Jesus from here on out… I’m in it for the long haul and pray constantly that I’ll make it to the end.  

Ok, time for bed. Goodnight my bloggy friends.


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