There is something so surreal about the future. I feel like everyone around me is pining for what they are meant to be doing, their destined identity. Some of my friends are working toward becoming professional actors, singers, and fashion designers while others are striving to become surgeons and human rights activists. We spend a majority of our lifetime planning for what is to come — for who we are going to be. But what about the fragments of ourselves that have already been laced together by late nights spent laughing with friends and vulnerable moments spent crying with Jesus? These are the pieces of our identity that really matter. As I struggle to find something to define my works to the world, I resort back to my identity in Christ. It is a liberating feeling to simply be and yet be more than enough, and that is what we are to Christ. Our lives are not meant to be singular careers or destinations that we’ve paved in our head. As we mold our miscellaneous (and often seemingly meaningless) relationships, we are molding ourselves. Relationships are the foundation of everything we are, so why devalue them? I am done placing all that I am into one world-defined water droplet when I have an ocean of places and people that make up my wonderful life. While we press into future plans, life is happening all around us. Let us not miss out on living in the abundance God has provided. While I have no doubt that my dear friends will go on to achieve many, many monumental goals, their hearts are what give them value to me and to God. If we think about who we love and why we love them, it is never due to their resume or slew of accomplishments. So why do we insist to ourselves that without these things we are meaningless?
The other day, I met a guy at Costco. I was purchasing contacts, and he was the one helping my mom and I checkout. Here is what I remember about him:
- He had brown hair.
- His wife and neighbor are teachers.
- He “still doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life, either.”
These things, at first glance, seem pretty mundane. There is nothing inherently significant about his life, as far as I know. Despite this, his smile made an impact on my day. His words infused a great amount of encouragement into my heart as we shared conversation pertaining to the world race. He made me laugh.
While I may never see him again, I will probably always remember this random guy from Costco. Not due to his status, but due to his charisma, his soul. As I travel to places I’ve never been, I hope to instill this same joy. I hope to share laughter that lasts a lifetime in the hearts surrounding me. I also hope to do this today and everyday, because my value is woven into shared exchanges with others. My life will be defined by the love I shared with God’s people, not the status I work to achieve.
