A part of the whole

Sometimes we doubt the significance of who we are and the part we play in our lifetime but have you ever been to a festival? 

If you have, then you start to see the beauty of life. You feel it, you hear it, and sometimes even smell it. Each person plays a part in that festival and chooses whether to engage or to sit back and observe. Neither are bad positions, they just are. The great thing though? Each person there is following their passion and add so much to life just by the joy they emit with their descriptive words and their beaming smiles. 

If I could live life like I was at a festival every day- I would! And the great thing is we can, and should. Life is too short and we are too blessed to not live it fully. As I was walking around the festival, I was in awe of how wonderfully surrounded I was by great people. My three friends, Ashley, Cameron and Maxann have each taken part of different seasons of my life and are now by the grace of God all in Charlotte. I have never laughed or smiled more in my life and am so thankful for their presence.

As for feeling whole by being a part of the whole- you are a part of God's great plan that he has already put in motion specifically for you but more so for the spreading of himself. The spreading of light into a dark and depressing place, he literally breaks us free from impossibilities and from the walls we build up inside of ourselves.

 Here are a few things that give me such hope in this: 

"If you are but a drop in the ocean, the ocean would be less without that one drop."

 Mother Theresa

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No Man Is An Island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

John Donne

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If thou couldst empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the Ocean shelf,
And say — "This is not dead," —
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou,
And hast such shrewd activity,
That, when He comes, He says — "This is enow
Unto itself — 'Twere better let it be:
It is so small and full, there is no room for Me."

T.E. Brown