Sliver of Light

Seasons of the moon

A sliver of light,

A fragment of white,

Tomorrow the moon will change

From the silhouette of tonight:

The moon is reflecting again and again,

The seasons of the heart.

The night of the beginning is the tiniest glimmer; the season of the diminutive: perhaps there are things we are only brave enough to say once.

The next night, the moon is a rectangle; it is far away and I can barely discern the soft slopes and the knife tips. It is sensible and concrete, yet forever limited. And the season of the heart is stable and safe, yet caged and finite in an infinite sky. Perhaps there are things that cost us the best of who we are in exchange for a semblance of security.

Half full now. Never complete, lost, unseen. The half moon is neither dreaded nor anticipated: it just is. As we just are. And we never want to just be. Perhaps there are things that halfness can teach us more than wholeness. Yet who desires to be incomplete?

The moon is growing now, gaining ground, its impact becoming manifest in the darkest sky it has ever seen. The moon cannot see its own light; it is appalled by the darkness. Perhaps there are times we must believe we have an influence, even when we do not perceive it.

The moon is full tonight, a radiant stream of brilliant light calmly serving the cold earth below it. It is complete. Full. Having run its course, it has achieved what we can only ever hope to gain. Pure, white light, blinded from the pain, glowing and passionate and calm and peaceful, a glorious paradox gracing the forever eternity of blackness.

Continue on then, weary soul, for you will grow, you will gain ground, you will become all that you were created to be.

You were full, every moment. The delusion of light made you believe you were a sliver, yet you were full, you were complete, you were finished, even then. Perhaps the light of honesty, of truth, perhaps that is what burns away the illusion of less than, of unworthy, of incomplete.

The seasons of the moon: perhaps it teaches us that even in the beginning, we are full. We just have to be exposed to more of the light.

And you, Jesus, You are the light. Reflect more of your light, that the greatest light might be displayed upon us.

A sliver of light,

A fragment of white,

Tomorrow the moon will change

From the silhouette of tonight:

The moon is reflecting again and again,

The seasons of the heart.

The Best Choice

If life is a series of choices that are made, then why don’t we make the best choices?

What if we went about our lives just doing the next best thing for our lives?

The concept of motivation and discipline is one that strives to encompass almost every sort of mindset shift and inspirational ideas. Speeches written to motivate generally contradict each other; some swear planning is key; others promise results if you just get started moving toward your goals.

I have a list of life goals ranging from “learn how to surf” to memorizing different books of the Bible to getting married. Literally, it’s on there.

But lately, I’ve been putting a lot of thought into the small decisions we make everyday. In one motivational speech, a speaker outlined the basis of why we as humans resist goodness in our lives so much. Our brains are programmed to protect us; however, this protection causes us to run from challenges, which are the very things we need to precipitate the best life we can possibly live.

Challenges.

Let’s define “challenge.” For the purpose of this blog post, we will define challenge as an act that is often resisted by human nature. Some challenges are hard (i.e. getting out of bed in the morning) and others are easier (swapping white pasta for whole wheat pasta). What if in the in-between moments, we chose to do the next best thing?

What is the next best thing for my spiritual life? What is the next best thing I need to do to become the most healthy version of myself? What should I implement in the next twenty minutes that will be best for the Kingdom of God? What is the next best thing for my family? Oftentimes the answer comes in the form of a challenge that is very small. For example, the best thing for my family is for me to wash the lunch dishes. It could be done in fifteen minutes. But will I do it?

What is best for my health right now?

I need to do a workout today. It will probably take me just over half an hour, and it will feel so amazing (especially when I am finished). Will I do it?

What is best for my spiritual life?

I need to keep up with my Bible reading, and I need to spend some time talking to Jesus. These are little things.

But if we made every little choice of what to do based on what is best for us, don’t you think it would change our lives? At work, if you find yourself tired and ready for a break, you ask yourself, “what is the best thing for me right now?” And the answer may be to sit down and hustle. The answer may be to get some rest. The answer may be to breathe a quick prayer and get some water.

You know what’s best for your life right now. You know when ice cream is important to eat for your mental health, and you know when ice cream is just going to discourage your success.

The answer changes. We just have to be willing to do whatever we need to in order to be the very best for God, our families, and ourselves. Find your priorities. Learn yourself; what is laziness and what are signs of burnout?

Then make the next best choice.

Your life will never be the same again.