I Will Live

Shortly after my Gramma died, I was in a dark, dark place. I stayed there for months. Sometime in June, I was at church. We were singing a new song with the line "I will live to love you. I will live to bring you praise. I will live a child in awe of you." I think that to a lot of people, these were/are just words to nice worship song. But as I sang through it for the first time, I got to thinking.

At that time, I didn't necessarily want to die. I wouldn't have done anything to accelerate or cause it to happen. However, I didn't want to live, either. I, like everyone else I know, would prefer not to be miserable. And while I wasn't suicidal, and I wasn't seeking to harm myself or cause pain to anyone else, heaven was more appealing than ever. There was no will or desire to live.

People told me to "live for her" or to "live for Derek" or "live for God." All of that was nice, but... not particularly inspiring. But as we sang that song, I realized something. It's not about me. I don't live for me. I don't live for kicks. I don't live for fun. I live... for Him. And not just staying alive. I live to love Him and serve Him. Then and there, I got on my knees. I made a promise to my God, a sacred promise. A promise with more meaning than most readers could know. I promised to live. I promised that, not because I was feeling inclined to do otherwise, but because to me, it's the best promise I can make. To live. It means more than simply maintaining respiration and heartbeat. It means choosing life. That's a whole other entry for a different day. But it meant a lot to me.

Anyway, that's where I'm at today. Thinking about that promise. To live.