LIVE LIFE! DON’T LET LIFE LIVE YOU

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of just surviving. I’m tired of just barely making it. I’m tired of being tired. I don’t just want to exist. I don’t just want to survive. I want to live. I want to thrive. I want to triumph. I can’t let Life get one over on me anymore. I have to get ahead of the game. I have to get ahead of her. I have to live Life and not let Life live me.

Sometimes, I swear someone put me in a full body slingshot and aims me right into the middle of Life. When I slam into her bullseye, I find myself surrounded on all sides by her stuff. Lots and lots of her stuff. On one side, she surrounds me with her peace and beauty, and I see nothing but joy. I gaze at that side and think how wondrous and awesome and full of promise and love Life is. Everything is great on that side of her. Hope reigns, kindness is bountiful, and prosperity is right there. Right there in front of me. I can just reach out and touch it.

But on her other side, Life’s angry. Over there she bullies me. She comes at me like she hates me. She runs me down, trips me up, and bulldozes me into doing things I don’t want to do and believing things I shouldn’t believe. She grabs me by the throat and squeezes me. She squeezes me so hard, I can’t even glance beyond my circumstances to see her other side . . . her wonderful, serene side. Her positive side. As she suffocates me, and drains the very life force out of me, I can’t even imagine that she has a hopeful side. A joyous side. A faithful side. As my world darkens and I lose hope, I can’t even remember if Life truly ever had a bright side.

But, just when I’m about to lose it, go limp, and allow Life to suck me dry, I force myself to focus on Him. I force my thoughts to be only of Him. I force my every breath to breathe Him in. I force myself to remember any verse of any scripture or positive saying or song or prayer or anything at all that makes me focus on Him. Him and Him alone. I ignore the fact that I can’t breathe. I overlook the fact that exhaustion renders me powerless. I push back the fact that Life is literally taking my breath away. I only look at Him. At Jesus.

Then, from somewhere deep down inside of me, I find the energy to pry her grimy fingers from around my throat. Slowly I turn away from the side of Life that made me fall. The part of her that ran me over. The piece of her that made me not believe anymore. I take a deep, freeing breath and jump on top of her. I throw her to the ground and stomp on her. I flip her over so that only her wondrous and awesome side is facing me. I grit my teeth, look her square in her dark side, and growl, “I live Life. Life don’t live me.”