This IS my life

Sometimes I feel like I'm constantly waiting for my life to start. This isn't a new feeling; I'm plagued by it often. A conservative estimate figures that the average person spends more than three years of his or her life (three 365-day years!) waiting for things to begin. So how do you measure how long I have wasted waiting for my LIFE to begin?

But, when I look around, I see that my life has started. And it's a beautiful life--even in all of its ugliness.

* I am loved by an incredible God who sees in me things so beautiful that they make me cry.
* I have an amazing husband who also seems to think I'm better than I am.
* I have the loveliest daughter in the world (sorry, but it's true!) and another on the way . . . both of whom are special treasures entrusted to my husband and me by this God who loves and cherishes our little ones even more than we do. And who watches over them so carefully that even our parenting mistakes will not prevent our girls from changing their world.
* I finally have a job that I love, where I am a writer.
* My family is healthy, even in our dysfunction, and we love each other deeply. Poorly at times, but deeply nevertheless.

There is no reason, as I hold my life in my hands in this moment and gaze at it longingly and lovingly, to not see that it has begun. That even when it is dismal and dictated, it is still too brilliant to exchange for one that might seem easier or more free.

So what do I do? How do I LIVE in this moment? Switchfoot reminds me: "This is your life; are you who you wanna be?" If I could add one more thing to truly become who I want to be--even, dare I say it, who I am--I would call it a writer's life.

That's the life I want to live--a writer's life, fully embracing my dreams and my realities . . . my talents and my imperfections . . . my joys and my sorrows. I want to live this writer's life. And to do that, I need to stop waiting for something. This life is here to embrace. So embrace it I will.

Even when it hurts.