This Jesus, He has saved me. He has died for all of my sins, forgiven me, and redeemed me from the grip of hell. He was beaten and pierced and killed for me. He came from Heaven for me, to bring me back to my Father. He is the One who loves me relentlessly and endlessly and unconditionally. Oh, this hope, this joy and love and sweetness I feel, I must tell them of it! I must tell them about Jesus.
This will convict you and motivate you and spark that fire in your bones.
I do not feel very bold.
I have butterflies in my stomach more often than not.
I just care too much about what people think, and I doubt my natural ability to succeed.
So my stomach is often fluttering and fretting, my palms sweaty, and my knees weak. (If you got that, let’s be friends.)
So here’s where I’m at: This past week, I’ve felt so convicted about telling people about Jesus. And listen, I do share my faith. I write about it. I talk about with my Christian friends. I post some captions of Bible verses. But I’m not talking about that… I am talking about share the Gospel, raw and gritty, with people, face to face, who don’t know Jesus and may have no desire to.
I just have this odd paradigm where my heart just fills and overflows with Jesus’ love for us and I just…
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