time and a promise.

If you could say anything, what would you say? I think there comes a point, when age graces us enough, when the clock has kissed us to the point where, words are more honest. When time has etched across our memories and hearts and minds enough days and months and years, that we can see with clarity the importance of just simply being honest. I think. I'm not positive because, as of yet, I have not breathed enough breaths to have time wear down the facade....but, I don't really want to wait until I'm old to live with honesty and truth at the forefront of my life. I have had my fill of playing the game expected, of living with the greatest concern being the approval of others. Don't get me wrong, I'm not interested in living my life like a bull in a china shop, crashing down with no concern at all for those around me. No, but there is a difference in living with concern for others in front of you and living with their approval as the driving force behind all you do. I am highly interested in being concerned and poured out for those in my life. However, I am not in the least interested in letting what they think of me dictate what I do. Because, no matter how we try and try and try to earn the approval of those around us, their will always be someone who looks at us through a grid that is completely wrong. There will always be people whose approval we'll never earn. And we can choose to let not having their approval break us and mold us into what they want, or we can choose to do what we know we're suppose to do, no matter what anyone thinks. No matter how anyone judges our actions. At the end of the day, there is only one opinion I'm interested in, and His opinion is my only concern because He gave His very life that I might have the choice to give it all back to Him. That definitely garners my full concern for what He thinks when I'm finally standing before Him face to face one day.

I've thought about all of this a lot lately. I've thought about how much I want to drink deeply of all He has put before me, of how quickly the moments slip by and how, time, like a magician, snatches years until one day, we wake up wondering how we can possibly be (enter age here) and where the years went. Maybe I'm an old soul, or maybe I'm just more aware at a young age of how quickly the years pass. For it has always been something I've been acutely aware of. I have never been under the delusion that because I am young the years will pass more slowly...I feel time moving all around me, I feel the sand slipping through the hour glass of time just as surely as I can feel the beginning of each new day. I feel my age and each year that has passed, I have noticed how quickly it goes. Perhaps for this reason, for the knowing, for the connection I feel with the tides rising and falling in my life and in those around me, I have no interest in wasting the time I've been given. I would rather have a full awareness of time passing than to wake up sixty years from now, wondering how I got there and where my life went.

I want to wake up sixty years from now poured out, used up, and spent in the best way possible. I want a life overflowing with memories of the glory of God, of knowing my Father like never before because of the passing years, ready and willing and yearning and eager to see His face. To wake up and know that the years hold tight to drinking deeply of everything He gave, of loving people with the love with which He loved me, of wonderful books devoured, conversations had, relationships built standing the test of the passing years, of times spent camping and eating food cooked over an open fire, of moments cherished in all their beauty, of staring up at twinkling stars, of the sun kissing my face as it rose and set, of laughing deep belly laughs, of baby giggles and hugs that lifted me off my feet, of dancing and singing and squeezing every single drop of joy out of every single moment given by the hand of a God who was satisfied with this life of mine well lived.

I want to wake up and remember times that were hard, that hurt, that cut deep and left wounds whose scars were healed by the Great Physician. I want to carry those scars as reminders of the grace shown and let that grace flow out to others whose wounds are still bleeding. I want the pain and hurt to be used to mold a heart that was pushed deeper into the heart of Jesus because of the pain and hurt felt. I want to remember how, there were times when all hope was lost to eyes looking at my life and I want to know that in those times, my heart trusted what it could not see, that it clung to my God despite the circumstances and came out of the darkness with His light shining forth. I want to wake up knowing that beyond all else, those who walked in and out of my life may not even remember my name or face, but while they were crossing my path, they caught a glimpse of the face of Jesus, and this is all they remember.

That's really the point, isn't it? In the end, to wake up not being remembered for what I've done, but for what He did with my life.

Or perhaps sixty years have not been allotted to me. Perhaps there are only thirty, perhaps more or less, it doesn't really matter. For no matter the passing of the days or months or years, if time for me stops tomorrow, I want to look into my Father's face and know that no, I didn't always get it right and probably messed up a lot, but that with every fiber of my being, I tried with a heart that belonged to Him to live each moment He gave with utter joy and a desperate pursuit  of His heart.

Yes, all of this is what I want and desire at the age of twenty-seven. Life stretches before me and there seem to be many years ahead, but I am not promised a long life. I am, however, promised a life of joy and hurt and laughter and pain and that it will be walked out with the One who holds every beat of my heart. And the promise is that He will work all things for my good, if my heart is His.

This is your promise as well. What do you desire most at the age in which this moment holds you?