As a new year begins to unfold, I have been very mindful about intentionally slowing down. It’s so easy to get caught up in trying to compete with a variety of different entities in life. From time to the next best thing, and from busyness to trying to outdo the next person, the race can easily become a lot more fast-paced if we’re not careful. And, before you know it, another year will have passed by and you will look back and realize that you didn’t really make the difference that you intended to when you began the year.
You will realize that you simply settled, that you allowed busyness to take over, and you will pine over the fact that nothing really changed in your life.
I was reminded, this morning, as I spent time in Scripture, that the best thing we can ever do for ourselves is to be the best version of who we are supposed to be. God never intended for us to strive to be better than the next person. God created each one of us with a purpose and the best way we can give Him thanks is to embrace who we are and become the best version of ourselves. It would even be in the best interest for the rest the world that we become the best version of ourselves.
The Apostle Paul, in the book of First Corinthians said, “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain…”
Paul didn’t consider himself to be better than anyone else. In fact, Paul counted himself to be one of the least in society. But, despite the way he felt about himself, Paul embraced his role in the world and his God-given purpose. Paul, by focusing on his specific gift, felt empowered to excel. Paul became the best version of himself and made a great impact in society.
Now, it’s my turn.
Now, it’s your turn.
Let’s all embrace and love who we are and are becoming.
Let’s make a difference in this world.
never feels like labor.
Your veins thread themselves
into my lungs
leaving me gasping for more…
You are a week’s worth of goodness
breathing life into eternity.
If I could count the ways
You’ve made my heart skip a beat,
I’d catalogue each murmur
like obsessive compulsive librarians
and cross reference each goosebump,
making sure that all is accounted for.
But even if I triple checked my work,
I imagine I’d still get lost in the arithmetic.
You speak sonnets into existence
on the 14th day of February.
You hire haikus to lower my heart rate
to 17 beats per minute.
And your iambic pentameters
are mathematical superheroes
with the powers of 10.
at Your soliloquies.
Oceans tear up with joy
as You conduct orchestras
of ostriches into beauty.
And the Son shines brighter than
love like two dilated novas
colliding for the first time.
You call me to you like a rotary phone
that doesn’t understand answering machines.
Your voice is more decadent
than chocolate cake at midnight.
But Your truth stings sometimes
so I let the voicemail pick up
more times than I should.
I wear You on my tongue
because I can’t stomach anything else.
I wear Your glasses just to see
others for the beauty that they are.
Your Word is a delicate rain storm
wearing itself like an old itchy sweater
on a parched summer afternoon in July.
You leave my inhalers breathless.
You camouflage my depression
in the depths of your chest.
Green with envy.
And You lift me steady
like energetic flatlines
proving once more
that broken pieces
can always be put back together.
You have a way with words.
Your Spoken Words bring life.
Your flattery actually takes me places.
You are the rage in encouragement
and You intensify my love for You.
You see me for who I am
and You cheer me on like pom poms.
You rest in the busyness
that has become my life.
And whenever You look me in the eyes,
You softly whisper