Growing up, I had the privilege of attending lots of Pentecostal camps - family camp, kids camp, teen camp - where passionate pursuit of God was encouraged, and spiritual encounters were celebrated. I thank God that I was shaped in this environment, because it laid the foundation that drew me back to the heart of God when I eventually lost my way. Through my teen years especially, I spent many evenings pouring my heart out in worship services, feasting on Scripture, and seeking with a voracious appetite for the things of God. In the Beginning... I can't remember a time when I didn't have Jesus in my heart; my mom tells me the story of how she asked me at the age of three if I wanted to invite Jesus into my heart and I didn't hesitate. But I do remember being four years old and feeling a burden for my three-year-old friend Morgan to make the same decision I had. I was deeply concerned for her to know Jesus and receive everlasting life. We held hands one exciting day as I led her in the prayer to cross over from death to life. I fell out of touch with Morgan as we grew up, and I don't know whether she follows Jesus now, but I hope the relationship decision she made that day was as significant and permanent for her as my decision was for me.