real + alive

Being real is not as easy as it sounds. Not in this world, this day, this age. Not at all.

We've changed our own mindsets to where everything has to be somehow subconsciously worthy of something else that it really wasn't created to be. But yet- for the sake of image- we stuff it in and force it to be that something that doesn't belong to it. It happens with pictures and words and memories and beauty of all kinds. Oh, and it also happens to people and their lives.

Aesthetics and how things appear to everyone else isn't life. What we do and how we do it and who we do it for is life. 

Sure, the aesthetic life is much more appealing. Where everything looks put together and beautiful and enviable. But truth is, nobody has a put together and beautiful and enviable life all the time. Or even most of the time. No matter how much it looks that way. 

The brokenness and heartache and struggles of real life are there for a reason. We humans have thought we knew best for way too long, and look where we are now. But yet, the pain teaches us a lesson.

It whispers that you are still here and that these feelings you have are being sharpened for one day when everything will be felt in perfection without pain. It guides us to do things we wouldn't do otherwise, shouting that one day you may not have the chance to do them again. It might hurt a lot, it might hurt occasionally, but it will hurt. There will be pain. But ultimately, the pain reminds us we can't do it on our own. We weren't made to.

Being real is being vulnerable. 

But being vulnerable in the right place is being free. 

And being free is being alive. 

I don't want to live a fake existence. The One who came so we could have life lived a real, perfect life then died a real, horrible death, then rose to reign again with real, forever love. And He still is. The price He paid was much too high to live under bondage to a made-up existence of our own creation.

I'm not perfect. This post isn't perfect. And I'm going to venture to say that you aren't perfect either. But that's okay. He is perfect. He's also real, and alive. And He frees people. 

Oh, He also binds up wounds and mends shattered hearts and resurrects dead things and fixes broken lives. Meaning, there's nothing He can't renew, in case you were wondering.

Whatever it takes, let's live real. Real is freeing, and to be free is to be alive. <3

+++++++++++

This is what I call prosetry- not a poem, but not exactly pure prose either.... it has the soul of a poem somewhere in there. I debated what form to put this in, but I went with this very imperfect little ramble in hopes it might encourage a little today. xx