I live for the feeling of warm feet hitting bare, cold floors in the morning. Chills flood my senses and perk me up, triggering appreciation for this world where the earth still turns and the sun still rises, regardless of your choice to participate. In the kindness and grace of another day, I find my joy. Then comes the best part: a cup of coffee. It’s the smell of the beans and the slow, steady process of the French press that ground me; reminding me there is a full day waiting ahead. I could carelessly throw coffee into the press, pour the hot water, and let it sit for however long without a second thought… but I don’t. I know what a good cup of coffee tastes like. I know the process and the steps to make it worth it. Every point, every act, done with intentionality. Because without purpose all you made was a quick, crappy cup of coffee, right?
I am beginning to learn the importance of mindfulness to these details. Too often, I reach the end of my day unable to recall what actually happened. Within the busy and rush, I forget the little details that weave into the important moments, thus robbing myself of gratitude entirely. In a blur of time and color, I have let days slip through my fingers, because I decided they weren’t worth paying attention to… because I was waiting for something better.
The chains to apathy are binding.
I used to make a habit of cutting corners, believing the ends justified the means. I busted through walls that were not meant to be destroyed and pushed people away that held great value in my life in order to achieve whatever goal I was chasing that week. I’ve seen the fruit of those choices now. Let me tell you what they are: lost friendships, hurt feelings, emptiness and losing what actually matters in life.
To live fully is to actively choose fullness. A full life won’t simply plop in your lap when you finally finish school, get that job, get a spouse, have children or see the world! Living wholly (holy) is an intentional choice to lay down at the Father’s feet what you can’t control and enjoy what you have. So often I’ve tried to get through life with brute force when the Father is trying to teach me the technique of enjoying the world, amidst it’s flaws.
I want to be a person who guards what is sacred to me. I want to say yes to the gifts the Father is offering everyday – even in the simplest of ways. I want to put my feet on the cold, wooden floor in the morning and utter the softest, most devoted “thank you” that I can give, regardless of what awaits me that day. I am slowly realizing that enough is all I need, and the abundance is meant to be given away generously. My abundance has a purpose and a name tag. If I am not listening carefully, I might miss it. If I’m not thankful and faithful in the small things, how can I be trusted with the bigger things?
Lately, I wake up and I make my bed. Nobody asks me to do it, but I choose to. I don’t particularly love making my bed; however, it starts me off with a reminder to do things well and with all my heart. Instead of grumbling about my sheets, I can choose to thank the Father for a bed with a warm comforter. I can start my day with conscious gratitude. It takes effort, but I know it’s worth it… It’s worth living as the Father intended us to live. I am nowhere near perfect, and I still find myself in pits of entitlement and ungratefulness. However, I am here. I am alive. And I am trying. Intentionally.
