"She smiles, but I laugh."
~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
The idea of resting and trusting is still rattling around in my brain, as is the thought I wrote about the other day from Sarah Young...allowing moments to be half-lived, slipping through our fingers. I have always had a thirst for embracing the moment, soaking up every last ounce of living from each day. I never wanted to miss even a second. Somewhere along the way, I've lost that passion. I don't know when it happened. I don't know why. I just know I want it back. I want to get up in the morning and smell the new day. I want to feel the wet grass on my bare feet. I want to sit outside and listen to the birds. I want to feel the breeze on my face. I want to talk to my neighbor across the street. I want to hike in the mountains, camp by the ocean, fish in the streams. I want to pay for the person behind me in the drive-thru lane, talk to the commuter next to me on the bus. I want to leave an extra big tip under my empty water glass with a note of thanks for the service I received (even if it wasn't that great!) I want to water-ski, jet-ski and downhill ski. I want to do cannonballs off the front of the pontoon. I want to lick the frosting from the knife. I want to play with the little ones God has brought into my life. I want to play with the teens God has brought into my life. I want to play with the older friends God has brought into my life. I want to learn...EVERYTHING. I want to be the instrument of care and compassion to someone else. I want to sit on my balcony and listen to the frogs at night. I want to sit on my parents' deck and listen to their frogs at night. I want the love of my Father to be poured out on those with whom I come in contact. I want to be used up by my Savior. I don't want to hold back. I want to embrace my journey with open arms. While others are content to smile through life, poised and proper, I want to laugh -- deeply, from the core of my being, head thrown back, eyes closed, tears trailing down my cheeks, totally abandoned to the moment.