Sublime

But getting older is hard. It is a gift, yes, but it is also heavy. Just as the doors of possibility become fewer and farther between, the burden of grief gets bigger. As the years pass, our losses in life accumulate, threatening to weigh us down. It takes active effort—breaths, walks, conversations with friends, rest—to slow down and remember tha

I’d catch myself dancing in the kitchen as I waited for my coffee to brew. I sat a little taller at my desk, while I worked to cross off every last task from my to-do list. With my shoulders back, I took deeper breaths that filled my lungs and my body with hope. The end was near and I could finally breathe again.

He begins to introduce us to the great kingdom paradox: at the end of me, I find real life in him.

Who is going to find the survivors who have no one? Who is even going to see the survivor who isn’t on the news? Who will find these hurting people and tell them how much they are worth?

You have your own stories, the dramatic and more ordinary moments where what has gone wrong becomes an opening to more of yourself and part of your gift to the world. This is the beginning of wisdom.

What if the opposite of loneliness is finding ourselves together? What if friends aren’t threats or competitors but gifts?