I love the feeling of being alive. 

So many people live their entire lives without ever really living. Their heart beats, they breathe air and move around, but are never really alive.
They buy fancy cars. They build large houses. They invest, they save, they even pay off debt. The white picket fence holds in the dog and 2.5 kids. The top of the work ladder is climbed. The daily schedule is routine and sure. Safe and secure. What a life.
Does success satisfy? Does the ideal invigorate? Does monotony mollify?
Rob Bell once wrote the following:
“I assume none of us want to starve or be shot at or lose someone we love, but it’s possible to die a sort of death at the other end of the spectrum as well, isn’t it?

If we aren’t careful, our success and security and abundance can lead to a certain sort of boredom, a numbing predictability, a paralyzing indifference that comes from being too comfortable.”

That’s why I tried sushi. That’s why I moved. That’s why I left a well-paying job with good benefits. That’s why I took on the daunting task of changing the way we view and manage our health. That’s why I’m flying to Turkey in five days. 
I love the feeling of being alive.
I don’t want to get to the end of my life wishing I would have actually lived it. I want to skid into my grave, hair disheveled, with a rip in my jeans and dirt under my fingernails having loved deeply and given generously, screaming, “Woo hoo!! What a ride!” 
I believe life is a gift. And I want to use my gift. I want to live an honest, animated life. 
Maybe to other people it looks reckless and immature. Maybe it is. But it is also passion, uncertainty, chaos, and beauty. 
A life well-lived is not found in some cookie-cutter formula. It looks different for each person. 
For me, it means each night laying my head down, on a plush feather pillow or the dirt floor, utterly exhausted from giving and pouring into the lives of those around me. It means getting angry about the injustice and oppression happening right here, right now…and actually taking an action step. It means letting go of bitterness. It means savoring the flavor of a moist brownie. It means stepping on a plane, uncertain of everything except the One who holds my life. It means writing as inspiration comes. It means letting the tears roll down the cheek instead of brushing them away. It means shutting my mouth and listening closely. For me, a life well-lived is rooted in loving God and loving others. 
I never want to get comfortable or bored. I never want to be plagued with apathy and indifference. I never want unexpected events to become rare occurrences in my routine. 
I’m alive, so I want to really live. 

3 thoughts on “alive

  1. To get to the point where we really live I feel as though we have to live in the promise that we are loved and cared for by a maker so infinite that we are freed to make those chaotic, seemingly carefree choices. Crazy. But So.So.Good!


  2. Amen! Best of luck, Hillary. Your heart is in the right place, and as God would have it, your body is on its way. Listen with open ears, see with open eyes, and work with open, giving hands.


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