This morning I woke up as the sun was just beginning to rise. Streaks of blush pink and bright orange streaked the sky as I set out for my morning prayer run. It was warm, but breezy, and as I ran I couldn't help but thank Jesus for this day.
This morning I felt a peace in my soul, a contentment, a surrender, and a praising. I praised Jesus for this life I get to live. I thanked Him for the countless ways He has shown Himself faithful (they were too many to count). This journey I'm on – He's been there every step of the way. He's never once let me down. I could think of a billion times I have, but Him? Never.
It's a number that the world looks at as a number of transition. In a person's eighteenth year they legally become an adult. They're expected to go live their own life, go be their own person. Move away, most likely to college, and be 'free' of everyone and everything. You make your own rules. You're your own person. You get to be you now.
I thought about that phrase a while this morning. As I ran, I wondered why I must live life like it's my own. Why do I have to follow the standards the world sets? As I step into a new year of living, (a new season, really, though I'll be sure to update everyone about that soon!) I want to be one who gives her life instead of taking it. My life isn't my own, because I gave it to Jesus.
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.
So that's the story of my eighteenth birthday. It's not about me. Though the world screams at me to live for me, I won't. That's emptiness. I'm gonna seek after Jesus if it's the last thing I do...and I pray it is. Lord, this life is Yours. Thank you for the reminder this morning. The pink clouds, the chirping birds, the wind that rustled the pages of my Bible.
Jesus, it's about You.