What Makes You Come Alive?

There was no way I could avoid this thought on Easter Sunday morning:

What makes me come alive?

Well by now I know those things exactly. I’ve known some for a long time, or I have known a few others but struggled mightily in accepting them or making room for them.

This is a central question in my life now because I heard it expressed numerous times as what is life-giving to you? What made your heart leap for joy today? Sometimes we are so entirely unfocused that we don’t even notice the life-giving things that happened in a 24-hour period.

But the issue I know I am attempting to drill at more so is how do I maintain what makes me come alive?

There are many a cynic who will be quick to say life isn’t about doing what you love (it’s because they stopped doing what they love years ago).

There are many who say life is a grind (they let their loves flicker out).

And there are others yet that equate being fully alive with childish ambitions that don’t recognize the toughness of the real world (they stopped playing a long time ago).

What I am pointing out on Easter today is how I really got caught in the wonderment of prioritizing the things that make me come alive more than any other things. I acknowledge, it truly is a fight to guard your time for those things.

I think this is the case though because of the point of view I carry more than often, a view that says what nourishes my soul should be rare and only done after responsibility.

But I think that our responsibilities, our duties, our entire lives are enhanced when we safeguard an abundance of our time doing and learning what makes us come alive.

The next time you get excited over something, and someone notices your excitement, don’t just take note of it. Ask yourself, how can I pursue more of this which excites me? The thing you nerd out over more than others. The challenge you want to pursue that others don’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

The things that make you fully alive.

Live Your Identity

When you live with a shovel in your hand,
Tossing dirt on yourself in the pit you made,
You are dead.
When you live adjusting your mask so others see it just right,
Assuring others are fooled with your perfected painful presentation,
You are dead.
When you live running past opportunity,
Fearful of all the failures you foresee,
You are dead.

But when you find your identity
you serve others,
When you live your identity
you live wide awake,
When you rest in your identity
you honor what you are made for.

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