Joy {or, Choosing to Live More Than Write, or Compare}

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On my way to work, I drive by a street corner where a little boy stands on the snowdrift waiting for the school bus, backpack slung over his winter jacket, hood pulled up over his head, with his eyes down turned over an open book held with small mittened hands.

And I think, maybe there's hope for us yet if someone still finds joy in reading.

But as his lone figure fades in my rear view mirror, and over the course of a day, I realize this tangled mess of thinking and pondering about weaning myself from technology, and reading others' words less and writing less myself, and ultimately comparing less, all this that has lately been going through the back of my mind so incessantly that it must be the Spirit trying to tell me something, it comes into focus through one little word—joy.

Because joy doesn't come from reading, or words {and it certainly doesn't come when you're constantly bombarded, even by your own doing, with what you see in everyone else and comparing yourself to them}.

But joy comes in living, because we have life in Christ and in Christ we have joy.

I will never truly find joy in writing, especially when I only wax philosophic about things in my head that might sound "good" but aren't actually real life; so a new focus, to choose to live more than I write and only write what I live, and to avoid what leads to comparison.


[Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday]

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