Sometimes having surprise margin puts me in a reflective frame of mind, perhaps because I haven't already loaded all the space in my schedule with busyness. Today, I'm probably pushed further in that direction by some major developments in the lives of those close to us—hard consequences of far more terrible actions. And so I'm faced with questions, good questions, and the space to consider them:
- How do we decide how we're spending our lives, in whatever measure those decisions have been entrusted to us?
- How do we stop hiding?
- How do we open ourselves to be changed by God and to community with others?
- How do we walk free of everything that would entangle us—not just the "bad" sins, but also our continual diversions and infatuation with our own "goodness" and "rightness"?
- How do we lead well and follow well?
The life I'm imagining isn't dull; it's alive and vibrant. It's not full of religious jargon and an answer for everything. It has forgiveness and grace enough for the hugest of sins, so that we can both reveal them and face them in all their horror—no more denial out of fear of repercussions. We tell the truth and call things what they are. Our relationships are more than just vehicles for good times and mutual amusement, and we find our joy increased rather than lessened thereby. We engage. We love. We serve. We worship. We are a blessing to the world, even when it rejects us.
My life has been purchased with too precious a price not to strive for this.