All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing

In the grand scheme of things, things don’t actually matter very much. I mean, if you really think about it. What really matters? It’s hard to put yourself in the position of really figuring this out without, I don’t know, electrocuting yourself, which I don’t recommend, but I think we can kind of narrow it down at least.

If I think about what drives me to get up in the morning, about what makes me get past my ever-present twelve year-old side who’s all afraid and wimpy and lazy, and get out there to do LIFE, I can narrow it down.

1. God. Jesus. The love He has, the life He gave, the price He paid for my freedom, my joy, my peace. Knowing that not everyone out there knows His love or His peace, and knowing that because He is in me, I have to tell people about Him, because if you had something like the cure for cancer or the solution to war and crime, wouldn’t you shout it from the mountaintops? Well, this is better.
2. My family. My parents, who’ve given up as much as they could and more to get me where I am, and who keep on doing it…and my sibs, who occasionally drive me up the wall but who I always, always love, even when they talk amongst themselves for an hour straight about cleaning supplies.
3. Best friends who you tell everything to and who you kind of made an unofficial pact with to never fall into a rut, or get all stagnant and smelly, or stop dreaming.
4. That unexplainable, indescribable, pulsating, vibrating thing that is LIFE and that keeps on tugging at me to freaking go and live it. I believe some synonyms for the LIFE I’m talking about are passion, hope, exhilaration, enthusiasm, ardor, vigor, and spirit.
5. The thought that we have to count for something. All the humans before us, all the things they did wrong and right, all the mistakes they made so we wouldn’t have to, all the ones who died while fighting for something worthwhile, all the discoveries and inventions and hard work and sweat and blood and all the history we’ve been through…it should count. I know it counts eternally, but here, on this earth, in this life, it should count.
6. The possibility that somewhere out there, in the big, wide world, is someone who fits me like a puzzle piece. Someone who I’ll love in both an epic and a daily kind of way, who I’ll love even when they’re senile and smelly (I wish I could say I came up with that one by myself, but I had a little help from Grey’s.) Someone who will get me and not want to change me, or dress me, or tell me what I can and cannot do, or dismiss the things I do as insignificant or unimportant. Someone like that.

The things that make me get up in the morning are, I think, fairly basic. God, relationships, and not dropping the ball in the long, long legacy of human. Knowing this list, just like knowing anything, only helps if I apply it. Knowing isn’t doing. So I’m going to prioritize and do what I know. I would hate to come to the end of my life, whenever that may be, and be sad about how I got bogged down by all the stuff and forgot to LIVE.

Love Jesus, laugh with the people you love, work your hardest, and love your enemy like you love your friends like you love yourself. I think the rest will work itself out.

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