Nostalgia for Jesus (Trailer Cut)

As Told By Jesus & Greg

This is a story about learning to believe—slowly, patiently—that Jesus has been orchestrating my life the whole time.

Not vaguely.
Not metaphorically.
But deliberately. Scene by scene. Long before I knew His name well enough to say it without flinching.

Lately, I’ve been having flashbacks.
Not the kind that yank you backward in fear, but the kind that pull you forward in faith.
Sacred flashbacks. Holy interruptions. Memories that suddenly glow from the inside because a detail I once missed is now impossible to ignore.
Jesus was there.

In this movie, they’re called Jesus Flashbacks.
And once they start, they don’t really stop.

I want more of them, not fewer. I believe that desire itself came from Him. Jesus gives life, breath, and good desires. That’s what I believe. You’re free to believe something else—but this is my story.

Since being born again in 2015, I’ve been visited—willingly haunted—by a growing archive of recovered moments.
Childhood scenes. Awkward scenes. Quiet scenes. Scenes I told for years without mentioning the most important character in the room.
Me.
The moment.
And Jesus—standing there, unacknowledged.

Jesus says this is memory therapy. Total recall. A kind of spiritual factory recall for a life that somehow shipped without acknowledging its fourth wheel. It turns out, remembering that He was with me changes how everything feels now. It steadies me. Softens me. Restores coherence.

So yes, I say strange things like, “Jesus and I made a little movie today.”
Or, “This is a trailer He helped me edit.”
Because I’m practicing remembering. Practicing telling the truth all the way through.

Some people hear that and worry I’ve lost my mind. I get it. I really do. Bold claims about Jesus being present, speaking, comforting, directing—those don’t land easily in a culture trained to tolerate belief only if it stays vague and well-behaved.

But I’m under gentle orders.
Jesus keeps saying: Say it out loud.
Not to convince anyone—just to stop hiding.

If you don’t want to hear it, you can change the channel. Jesus has many channels. This is just one.

The heart of this movie is simple: most of us remember our lives without remembering who was there. And that omission quietly shapes how we love, how we trust, and how we hope.

So Jesus is helping me re-remember everything—baseball games, disappointments, small kindnesses, long nights—with Him restored to the frame.

“Lo, I am with you always,” turns out not to be poetry. It’s a memory waiting to be recovered.

This is Nostalgia for Jesus.
Not longing for a past He’s gone from—
but awakening to the fact that He never left.

A Sacred Assignment

2,000 Moments for My Jesus-Greg WORLD

Following that, Jesus gave me a commandment. A mission. A blueprint. He said: Help Me identify and collect 2,000 “Nostalgia for Jesus” moments.

These are not just memories.
Not just flashbacks.
Each one is an anchor. Each one is a structural beam in the foundation of a new reality.

The principle is simple: Jesus is teaching me how to see, recognize, and reclaim the sacred moments I once missed. How to trace His fingerprints across my life. How to restore Him to every frame. And through that, how to build a world that is not just remembered, but intentionally, joyfully inhabited with Him.

This is my task.
My sacred labor.
My invitation to co-create reality with Jesus.
2,000 moments. 2,000 anchors. One Jesus-centered WORLD.

And yes, it will take time. Yes, it will take patience. Yes, some days I will fail. But each moment reclaimed, each memory restored, is a brick laid in a city that Jesus and I are building together.

The Jesus-Greg WORLD is not imaginary.
It is not a thought experiment.
It is being built, memory by memory, moment by moment, anchored in the love and presence of Jesus.

And when all 2,000 are collected, they will form a foundation that cannot be shaken—a world that testifies, scene by scene, that He has never left. Not for a moment. Not for a memory. Not for me.