Live, really live

I ponder every morsel of wisdom from you,
I attentively watch how you’ve done it.
I relish everything you’ve told me of life,
I won’t forget a word of it. (Psalm 119:15-16 The Message)

I found this terribly grainy photo of my middle daughter jumping in a pile of leaves. In our previous neighborhood, we gathered all the leaves we could find, swept them into a pile, and took photos of the kids jumping into them every autumn. Our non-desert-dwelling friends scoffed at our pitifully small pile of leaves, but the children loved this. Now we live in a different neighborhood, and I will have to scout out a new location for the Yearly Leaf Jumping Photo. (Yes, that deserves to be capitalized. Family traditions deserve capital letters.)

I love this photo because it captures my daughter’s delight, and perhaps her entire personality. It was Leaf Jumping Day, and she jumped with all her heart. Who cared if the leaf pile was only three inches tall?

Annika was born with the ability to enjoy every moment. When she was four, she kept a mental list of the Best Days Ever. They included simple things like “the day Mama helped in my class at church” and “the day we had chocolate cake at the coffee shop.” Soon her list was very long, because her outlook on life made almost every day a Best Day Ever.

Today I am in the middle of Psalm 119 (verses 57-112).

“Comfort me so I can live, really live;
Your revelation is the tune I dance to. (Psalm 119:77 The Message)

Live, really live.
The phrase has been echoing in my mind all day. What does it mean to “live, really live”
while I fold laundry,
while I meet with church friends to plan next year’s Bible studies,
while a migraine interrupts my life?

Does it mean that
you are the song in my heart when life is mundane,
the harmony of our individual goals as we plan next year’s Bible studies,
the quiet coziness of my bed on a migraine day?

…I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. (John 10:10)

I am convinced that you offer us this abundant life now,
not some day when our ship comes in
(it’s difficult for ships to reach Las Vegas anyway).

Lord, show me how to live, really live,
in my neighborhood,
in my church,
and in your word.

Oh, love me—and right now!—hold me tight!
    just the way you promised.
Now comfort me so I can live, really live;
    your revelation is the tune I dance to. (Psalm 119:76-77 The Message)