But here's the thing: being alive is deep and profound. The concept baffles everyone, everywhere - no matter their religion, social status, country of birth or mother tongue: "I am alive - and that means something. Not sure what most of the time, but it does." Isn't that what we all think?
So my pursuit of the perfect blog topic is rather silly - when I've got crazy amounts of real life just slipping through my fingers untyped.
Take today, for instance. I can't say today was one of those life changing God experiences where I am stunningly aware of my place in creation and His power over my life. Actually, today was, well, pretty mundane. I got up and ate breakfast, drank a cup of my dad's good coffee, took a shower and washed dishes. I made curtains and exercised and went shopping. I did normal, everyday, routine stuff.
There's a verse in 1 Thessalonians 4 that says:
Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you.
I'm not going to lie: I don't always like that verse. Sometimes - maybe even a lot of the time - I want a loud life, one that is full of bold days full of adventure.
But today, I made it my ambition to spend the day quietly - to look around for little ways to serve and to seek out ways to connect with my siblings.
I took my 15 year-old sister Eleanne driving in a parking lot. We chatted up turn signals and parking brakes, steering wheels and gas pedals. She even backed into a parking space and drove on a real road with double yellow lines. We made it up to 35 miles an hour - and neither of us died.
If riding in a car with a brand new driver isn't adventure, I'm not sure what is. But it was nails-in-the-seat-bite-lip-don't-focus-on-the-grass-on-the-passenger-side quiet adventure.
For dinner, my family and I sat on the porch and ate leftovers in the early fall weather - and I leaned against the house and looked out over our front lawn and watched my sister and my brother hold hands during the prayer and my dad and my baby sister Grace snuggle and chat on the front steps.
After dinner, I went on a bike ride with two of my brothers through the neighborhood across the street. The rumor is true: you never forget how to ride a bike. I would not however, recommend trying to ride with no hands after not having ridden in nine or so years. Seeing my brothers take turns leading the direction of our paths was something to smile about. They're growing into men and leaving boyhood behind them with grace. And my world was still there - quiet and peaceful - with the wind twirling my hair and the sound of pavement whirring under us.
When we all sat down together to read the bible, I traded foot rubs with my mom and listened to everyone read in their turn and my Dad talk about the text. I didn't read tonight - even though I usually do when I'm home with my family - I was quiet. And it was good.
Daily life isn't easy. Being caught up in the rituals of the mundane gets really, well, boring. You know, mundane?
But maybe there's something profound enough about being alive that's worth sitting quietly and minding our own business and working with our hands and enjoying the day that the Lord has made.
Maybe it's even something worth writing about.
To daily life - in all its boredom and wonderment!