Life is Beautiful

I love writing. I enjoy playing with sentence structure. I've always been quite direct with my words, and it happens to be something I enjoy. Today, however, my words nor sentence structure can do my thoughts justice. You see, I'm as equally inquisitive as I am bold. It is hard to satisfy my mind; whether the topic at hand is football or life itself, I have many questions which do not allow me to rest until I have answers. My mind, as does yours, gracefully leaps from thought to thought. Sometimes I feel like I've accomplished a lifetime worth of ideas, memories, and life-changing thoughts, only to realize it's been five minutes and I can't even remember what the orginal thought was that induced that process. This post come from the depths of my soul. Really. A place where even words fail to explain.

Sometimes my commute to work gets on my nerves, but most of the time I love it. Especially in the mornings: it's my time to think, unwind, rewind, clear my head, daydream, reflect. Luckily my commute allows me to drive against the majority of the traffic. I pass by a stalemate westbound interstate each morning, with thousands of cars lining the freeway. It is very common for me to create stories in my head about the people in all of these cars. I wonder who they are, where they are headed, what their lives are like, what kind of people they are. I truly wonder. I drive in awe, just wishing someone else were there to chat with me about this incredible sight. I know that in that rush of traffic are pastors, athiests, teachers, students, prostitutes, waitresses, drug addicts, soccer moms, Wal Mart greeters, professors, high school drop-outs, outgoing people, shy people, family men, lonely people. It's incredible to me. I can't help but think how funny it is that people are so different, yet so alike. There they all are--together--sitting in traffic, just waiting to see what their day holds. Some will make it to work safely, another unfortunate soul may not. I love pondering these thoughts as I drive. It's just... life. And I love it. We are all just people; we're all equal. None is better than another. Each of these people is a treasure. Some know it. Some do not.

As these thoughts fill my soul, I'm always taken aback by creation itself. I've always believed in God and I know He's amazing, but sometimes I sit back and dwell on how truly incredible--jaw droppingly, heart stoppingly incredible--He is. I think about the moon and how it illumines the Earth, controlls the tides, oxygenates the oceans. I think about the sun and how it provides life to our planet, as well as warmth, light, and beautiful images as it rises and sets each day. It's inconceivable how everything simply (complexly) works together. I think about the marvelous minds out there in the world; oh, how my life would be different without these people. I think about he who invented the bridge so that I could cross over bodies of water. He who developed medicine. He who innovates technology. He who penned extraordinary words and wrote my favorite pieces of literature. He who composes music.

And then, of course, my mind leads to the source of it all: He who breathed these ideas into these people and made it all possible to begin with. He who painted this beautiful landscape and chose to breathe life into it. He who created the intricate and the complex.

I dare you to tell me that's an accident.

I'm overwhelmingly blessed to praise the Creator of all things. And to think: He chose me.