My wound goes deeper than the skin; there's no hiding it, so I'm not trying it.

Well, here I am, sitting in a Starbucks in Tyler (Texas) on Thanksgiving day, trying to articulate my rapidly flowing emotions. I was born in this city, though this is the first time I have ever had to really look at it. It's a town filled with music stores and donut shops, with beautiful old trees and colorful leaves (seeing as it's November). I can tell that it's normally got flowing gardens in these neighborhoods, and it's no wonder it got it's reputation as the Rose Capitol. It's very thought-provoking to be here. It feels like I kept hearing the Lord whispering as I drove in, "This is where I brought you into the world, and oh, how I rejoiced on that day!"

Ever since starting this trip to Texas, my heart has been experiencing a variety of emotions. I had several fights with my mother on the way up here, and in the midst of it all something flew out of my mouth before I even knew where it came from.

"You don't believe Jesus makes whole. And I don't believe he does. None of us do, or we wouldn't be having these fights."

That hit me like a bullet when I realized what I said. Not because it wasn't true, but because it really WAS true. It kept dwelling in my mind, and a soberness took me over.  Forget everyone else for a minute. If I, Alec Burnett, believed in the cleansing of Jesus' blood, then I would not hold so much offense in my heart. I would not get stuck in these cycles of frustration with my parents over and over again, but I would rest easy knowing that Jesus has already cleaned them, he has made them whole. I would have no reason to get mad, because they are a new creation, and not the old flesh.

It struck me hard, and it's stayed between my lungs. I NEED to believe that Jesus makes clean. He has extended mercy, he has extended grace. He's so unbelievably beautiful, how can I help but try and do the same?

And on another note, I'm with my extended family - well, not at the moment - and I'm learning more about them. I'm going to be honest, it always gave me a great deal of grief that I didn't know who they were almost at all. I would see some of them occasionally (I come from a very, very large family), but only in bits and pieces, here and there. And now I feel almost overwhelmed at the thought of meeting and seeing so many of them. I feel tired, like I want to give up, the task is so great. But I am determined that by the end of this trip, I will have forged some fond memories to keep of those with whom I share blood.

I'm such a deep feeler; I was struggling with feeling some despair about my life. Even now I am, sitting here at this little table, listening to the baristas banter back and forth. Yet I can't help but let Jesus remind me that it's not over. Ten days from now I will experience a tremendous shift, from minor to "legal adult." My life is just beginning. I'm emerging, I'm changing, I'm growing. I'm going to choose, no matter how hard it is right now, to just believe that I was born into the world, right here in this city, for a reason. You can call it cheesy, irrational, or clichéd. But I'd rather live with hope that God formed me with intent than despair that I have no purpose. 

Happy Thanksgiving everybody. I'm thankful that I was born. And I'm thankful for parents that truly love me. And I'm also thankful that you care enough about me that you took the time to read this.