By Audrey Sellers
A whole human life is just a heartbeat here in heaven. Then we'll all be together forever.
~Chris Nielsen, What Dreams May Come
"I got the job! I'm going to be a camp counselor this summer!" Zach, my then-boyfriend, now-husband proclaimed the second I opened the front door to find him standing there, beaming.
A whole human life is just a heartbeat here in heaven. Then we'll all be together forever.
~Chris Nielsen, What Dreams May Come
"I got the job! I'm going to be a camp counselor this summer!" Zach, my then-boyfriend, now-husband proclaimed the second I opened the front door to find him standing there, beaming.
"That's great news!" I exclaimed, giving him a big hug. We'd been dating for a year, and I knew he loved God, kids and sports. This gig at T Bar M, a Christian sports camp in the Texas hill country, was absolutely perfect for him.
There was just one thing: What was I supposed to do all summer long? My happiness quickly faded to disappointment.
"Wait. Just how long will you be gone?" I quizzed him. With my boyfriend out of the picture for potentially weeks at a time, my summer was beginning to look bleak.
"Well," he began softly, "it's an all-summer kind of thing. But you can visit me!" His eyes pleaded with me to see the good in this opportunity, but all I could think about was myself.
What would I do when my shifts were over at the restaurant where I waited tables? I'd grown so accustomed to hanging out with Zach that I didn't know what I'd do without him. It was my junior year in college, and, quite honestly, I just wanted to have fun. I didn't think much about God.
Zach, on the other hand, grew up a devout Catholic. God was a very big part of his life. While my family attended the occasional Mass, we mostly slept in on Sundays and rarely, if ever, said prayers.
Maybe that's why I was instantly drawn to and inspired by Zach's faithfulness. He invited me to join him at Mass on Sundays, and soon it became part of our normal weekend routine. As much as I would have preferred to stay burrowed under the covers until noon, Zach gently made it clear that going to church on Sunday morning wasn't optional — it was mandatory.
I loved this about Zach, but standing there in the sunshine-soaked entryway of my mom's house, his faith made me angry.
"What am I supposed to do while you're gone? Do you know how boring my summer will be now? It's like I don't even have a boyfriend. I can't go weeks without seeing you," I fumed.
Undeterred by my bad attitude, Zach grabbed my hands and guided me to the couch. "You know that movie, What Dreams May Come?"
I immediately recalled the movie; we had watched it together in his dorm room just a few weeks ago. It made me terribly sad when the husband in the movie left heaven to rescue his wife from hell.
"Well, the reason I want you to go to church with me, read the Bible and invite Jesus into your heart," he said, holding my hands in his, "is so that I can see you in heaven."
Those words changed my life. A spark had been struck somewhere deep within my soul, and I, for perhaps the first time in my life, felt true love.
There was a great love sitting in front of me, and there was the love of Jesus. I only needed to invite Him into my heart.
"How do I ask Him?" I murmured softly, tears welling up in my eyes.
Zach gave my hands a squeeze and said, "Just invite Him in. There's no wrong way to do it. He just wants you to ask."
I dropped to my knees right there at the side of the familiar cream-colored couch, pressed my hands tightly together, closed my eyes and asked Jesus to come live in my heart.
The rest, you could say, is faith history. Zach and I got married in 2005 and had a precious baby boy in 2010. I count my blessings every day. And when the Lord calls me home, I'll tell Him Zach helped me find the way.
There was just one thing: What was I supposed to do all summer long? My happiness quickly faded to disappointment.
"Wait. Just how long will you be gone?" I quizzed him. With my boyfriend out of the picture for potentially weeks at a time, my summer was beginning to look bleak.
"Well," he began softly, "it's an all-summer kind of thing. But you can visit me!" His eyes pleaded with me to see the good in this opportunity, but all I could think about was myself.
What would I do when my shifts were over at the restaurant where I waited tables? I'd grown so accustomed to hanging out with Zach that I didn't know what I'd do without him. It was my junior year in college, and, quite honestly, I just wanted to have fun. I didn't think much about God.
Zach, on the other hand, grew up a devout Catholic. God was a very big part of his life. While my family attended the occasional Mass, we mostly slept in on Sundays and rarely, if ever, said prayers.
Maybe that's why I was instantly drawn to and inspired by Zach's faithfulness. He invited me to join him at Mass on Sundays, and soon it became part of our normal weekend routine. As much as I would have preferred to stay burrowed under the covers until noon, Zach gently made it clear that going to church on Sunday morning wasn't optional — it was mandatory.
I loved this about Zach, but standing there in the sunshine-soaked entryway of my mom's house, his faith made me angry.
"What am I supposed to do while you're gone? Do you know how boring my summer will be now? It's like I don't even have a boyfriend. I can't go weeks without seeing you," I fumed.
Undeterred by my bad attitude, Zach grabbed my hands and guided me to the couch. "You know that movie, What Dreams May Come?"
I immediately recalled the movie; we had watched it together in his dorm room just a few weeks ago. It made me terribly sad when the husband in the movie left heaven to rescue his wife from hell.
"Well, the reason I want you to go to church with me, read the Bible and invite Jesus into your heart," he said, holding my hands in his, "is so that I can see you in heaven."
Those words changed my life. A spark had been struck somewhere deep within my soul, and I, for perhaps the first time in my life, felt true love.
There was a great love sitting in front of me, and there was the love of Jesus. I only needed to invite Him into my heart.
"How do I ask Him?" I murmured softly, tears welling up in my eyes.
Zach gave my hands a squeeze and said, "Just invite Him in. There's no wrong way to do it. He just wants you to ask."
I dropped to my knees right there at the side of the familiar cream-colored couch, pressed my hands tightly together, closed my eyes and asked Jesus to come live in my heart.
The rest, you could say, is faith history. Zach and I got married in 2005 and had a precious baby boy in 2010. I count my blessings every day. And when the Lord calls me home, I'll tell Him Zach helped me find the way.
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