Dustin was charged with first degree murder today. Sentenced to life in prison. He was the foster boy that my parents had. Him and I were close.

Not sure what to think. Not sure how to feel. I want to vomit... that's a feeling. I'm nauseous.... also a feeling.

For we all have sinned and fallen short of His glory. So short.

I'm sad for him. I'm sad for her. I'm sad for her friends and family.

Oh, Lord, that you would be near him. That he would draw close to you. For You are good to us. You are merciful. Let him find You. In his lowest hour. Be his rock. Be his Savior. His Prince of Peace. His Lord of Lords.

I remember the days when I would be in a constant communication with the Lord. No reason to say "Dear Jesus", because our conversation had never ended.

I remember the days when I would dance. Not looking good. Rarely feeling good. But I would dance. I would fight in the Spirit. For people. Or changes in the atmosphere.

I remember the days when I would prophesy. Knowing God was always in a good mood. Knowing He always had something good to say.

I remember the days when I would read my Bible. So hungry for more.

I remember the days when I would speak in tongues. In my car. In the shower. In bed.

All this I remember. But what I forget, is why I stopped.