That’s gonna do it for me, the OTHER Jeff Johnson…

No, really. This time, I mean it. If you haven’t heard, today is my last day with KVNE. Monday, I will start work as the Senior Communication Specialist for UT Health Northeast here in Tyler.

This has not been the easiest decision for me or for my family. But – after much prayer and seeking the advice of mature Christian friends – Deleisa and I are convinced that God has opened this door for me. And, I’ve learned the hard way in the past, if God opens a door for you, you either walk through it, or you’ll regret that you didn’t.

Please accept my very sincere thanks for inviting me into your homes, offices, cars, and even one naval vessel on the Sea of Japan over the last five years. We’ve been together through the deaths of my dad and father-in-law, several of my surgeries, my very-belated college graduation, and about a million Caroline stories, including when my little girl gave her heart to Jesus earlier this year.

There are no words to express what your friendship means to me – the visits, calls, cards, letters, emails, text messages, Facebook posts and the occasional home-cooked meal. I am humbled. I am also VERY relieved that – while I will be leaving KVNE in just a few minutes – my family and I will remain right here in East Texas … so there’s a good chance we’ll bump into each other, again. And, of course, we’ll always have Facebook where you can find me by searching for “the OTHER Jeff Johnson.”

Before I go, there are a couple of things I need to say.

First and foremost, there is nothing more important in your life than a having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. If you’ve joined KVNE for the first time for our Christmas music, welcome. But, if you haven’t put your trust in the grown-up Jesus that these songs are talking about as a baby, you’re missing out on the most amazing joy that anyone could ever know this side of heaven. If you want to know more about Jesus, call my friends at 888-Need-Him or go online to ChatAboutJesus.com.

Second, a message to my family:

To my wife, Deleisa … you have supported me through nearly 20 years of my crazy media career. You’ve followed me all over the country and given up time with family and friends, jobs, homes, and so much more. You are a saint, as anyone who knows both of us can attest. Thank you for loving me … and for not killing me.

And to our eight year old little girl, Caroline, who’s not really all that little anymore. In French, Caroline means “Song of Happiness.” The English origin simply means “joy.” And you have most definitely brought so much joy and happiness to so many people.

But the Italians know you pretty well, too, Caroline. To them, your name means “strong,” which is funny because everyone who knows me thinks the first boy you date needs to be afraid of ME. If they only knew.

Caroline, I was firmly wrapped around your little finger before you were born. The day you came into this world, you melted my heart. And the day you gave your heart to Jesus was the one of the greatest joys I have ever known.

Lord willing, you will date that first boy some day. You’ll graduate from high school, then college. You’ll get married and have children. And you’ll look back on this day and thank God that I’m no longer on the radio to share every embarrassing moment of your life.

In all seriousness, Caroline, as you grow into the beautiful young woman God created you to be, please remember what I’ve told you at bedtime nearly every night of your life: Mommy loves you … daddy loves you … and Jesus loves you most of all.

And, with that, this really is going to do it for me, the OTHER Jeff Johnson. Time for Joe and Betty’s baby boy … DJ’s hubby … Caroline’s daddy to call it a day … one last time. Yes, I’m still going out to look for myself … though I think I’ve got a much better idea where to search than I did five years ago when our friendship began.

But if I show up here before I find me … do, please keep me here ’til I get back!

You can contact Jeff through his personal website: TheOtherJeffJohnson.com.