September 26, 1993 – Sunday – 7:15 p.m.

The church fellowship was today, so we didn’t have church tonight.

I just skimmed through my first three Books of Days.  I feel so stupid.  When I first started my journal I never wrote much about skit group or youth group; I just wrote about Veronica and she isn’t half as important to me as those memories are now.  Today was so hard after yesterday’s realizations.  I can’t go back and I feel like it’s killing me.  I wish I could make you understand.

The summer of ’93 was great, but the fall, winter, and spring of ’92 and ’93 were far better.

September 12, 1992 to June 5, 1993.

So many complications with Veronica, the one I thought I loved, when the people I truly loved and still love were the group of friends whose company I took for granted.  Most of them are still around and we will continue to have great times, but right now it hurts because I know it will end soon.

Why am I like this Jesus?  Why do memories mean so much to me?

Today a little girl gave a picture to me.  I don’t know when it was taken, but it was after December and before May because Tammy is in the picture.  Jonathan is in there, too.  I realized how much I miss him.

I’m not in the picture, and neither is Marcus, but mostly everyone else is.  Look at us all!  Inseparable friends!  All happy, all smiling, covered in the joy of the Lord.

But the day will come when another group of young people will grow up in that church and we will go our own way.  But, wherever we end up, we all know who we are and whose we are.  Nothing can take that away.

The Lord just showed it to me.  I shouldn’t be sad over this; I should count it all joy.  We are the Endtime Warriors!  We are the Emmanuel Players!  Whether we are together or not, we are family.  Even if we are on the opposite sides of the globe, we will always be one.

We will grow up and never forget our youth and we will love the Lord until the end of our days.

Lord, Make us instruments of your peace,

Where there is hatred, let your love increase

Lord, make us instruments of your peace,

Walls of pride and prejudice shall cease

When we are your instruments of peace.

Where there is hatred, we will show his love

Where there is injury, we will never judge

Where there is striving, we will speak his peace

To the millions crying for release,

We will be his instruments of peace

Where there is blindness, we will pray for sight

Where there is darkness, we will shine his light

Where there is sadness, we will bear their grief

To the millions crying for relief,

We will be your instruments of peace.

Always.

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