Living to the Fullest: Can a Nomad Do it?

Note from Adrian: This week's guest post is from another blogging friend called Nowhere Man. Not much is really known about the Nowhere Man. He seems to be on some sort of personal quest.. a never ending search for purpose. With each step a new discovery that brings him a tiny bit closer to unveiling the true meaning of his own existence. Hopefully, someday he will find what he is looking for.

The Nomad keeps a journal of his travels, exploits, and mishaps on his blog, Nomad Way of Life. He can also be found on the Twitter Machine.

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A full life can mean something different from person to person. Whatever those differences may be, the main significance is what matters to you.
It doesn't necessarily have to involve exploring the world through wanderlust like I do.

Or leaping off of a perfectly good bridge with a rubber band tied to your feet, hoping for a thrill or rush that you can't experience on perfectly stable ground.

It could be taking the time to enjoy the simple things in life that we all too often take for granted, like taking a break from those stress-inducing work-related phone calls that seem to suck way too much out of your life.

For a brief period, take a walk through that favorite garden of yours to find that perfect flower. Or even better, enjoy a beautiful sunset as it’s warm glow glistens over the horizon (my personal favorite, I’ll admit).

An experience is much more fulfilling with the cell phone turned OFF, when you don’t have to worry about having 10 seconds to breathe.

Perhaps it’s that child’s smile and the joy you have, knowing that you have brought new life into this world, or the thought of having the opportunity to shape that miniature being into something that will make the world a better place.

Take the time to do whatever it is you truly enjoy, no matter what, void of any excuses (which are easy to conjure up), because the truth will inevitably reveal itself..
The day will come when those little things that held so much joy will be the most important memories of your life.

Enjoy beauty.

Enjoy life.

Most of all, enjoy the time that you get to spend with the people that you care for the most.

It took losing everything that I ever owned or possessed, as well as the one person that I was ever able to truly love in this world, for me to finally wake up and open my eyes to the beauty that surrounds us every day. I can't say that I am glad that it happened, but I will say that it was a hard lesson that I needed to learn. The worst thing that any of us can ever do is to take for granted all of the gifts that this world offers us every day.

Cherish your blessings, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem at the time. We only get one shot at this, so let’s make it count.

I know that I will not live forever. I accept that. The time will eventually arrive when tomorrow doesn’t come. But until that moment arrives, I will do everything that I can to live for today.

Carpe Diem.

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Questions: What do you enjoy doing that makes your life feel fulfilled? What gifts do you sometimes take for granted? How can you "seize the moment" today?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way.

To the Fatherless

Last week, we turned in our *big* senior papers. Having finished mine about two weeks early, it wasn't anything monumental in my mind. However, what I learned from my research was enough to break my heart even further for those who are broken, for those who don't can't speak for themselves.

This is the first thing that comes to my mind when I
think of orphans.

In the Old Testament, there is a litany of passages which talk about three major people-groups which are constantly being oppressed in the Ancient Near East: widows, aliens, and orphans. Today, I want to take a look at orphans.

One of the most surprising things that I learned through my studies was about orphans. In ancient Israel, a child was considered an orphan if he had lost only his father. That's why you see many translations offering the word "orphan" as "fatherless." In fact, I found that it is nearly impossible to pinpoint a context in the Old Testament in which "orphan" refers to someone who has lost both parents.

There are many reasons for this which don't necessarily apply to our modern-day Western culture. The primary reason for this distinction deals with the way in which ancient Israel operated. If a child didn't have a father, or a woman didn't have a husband, they didn't have an identity. They didn't have property. They were among the poorest of the poor, and had no way of helping themselves.

This really seems to put a damper on the saying that "God helps those who help themselves."

Nowadays, if you don't have a father, you still have a social identity, you still have the capability of acquiring wealth and possessions, and, for the most part, you can be economically secure.

One thing that is often overlooked about the fatherless, though, is that beyond their economic security lies a much deeper need, a square hole often filled by a round peg.

The fatherless are still without a father. Biologically speaking, they lack half of their heritage. Half of who they are is a mystery. So, even though they may be secure economically, their deep-seated emotional insecurity remains a void that is rarely filled. And even though they may have an identity socially, they lack part of their identity internally.

Because our culture has so radically shifted from the culture of ancient Israel, I would also go as far to say that the same conditions apply to those who don't have a mother. If you grew up missing a parent, then this  applies to you.

What are the rest of us to do, then? The Bible seems clear on this one: provide for their needs. Those who have should help those who have not. And I know this sounds a lot like socialism, but it isn't. It is love.

Do we really need a step-by-step outline of how to "care" for these people, though? Are we so far out of touch with God's love that we've forgotten what it looks like to truly provide for someone in need?

My first instinct is to propose a list of practical, applicable steps to remedying this situation, but it seems unnecessary. After all, if we, as Christians, are a people who claim to live in love, shouldn't we know how to love one another? Shouldn't we be the best at serving the fatherless or motherless? Shouldn't the love of God (which we claim to be so great and abundant) be overflowing in our lives to the point that loving these people wholeheartedly is our only alternative? 

This love, which we say comes from God, should be evident to those who need it. To those lacking emotional security, we should be a beacon of safety and security. To those who seek their identity, but can never find it because it has gone missing with their mother or father, we should be a ray of hope, illuminating the answer for them: that their identity remains, not in parents (who may leave or pass away), but in God, who never leaves or passes away.

Again, I'm resisting the urge to enumerate the practical steps of such an action, because I know that we've heard it all. We don't need anymore step-by-step guides or self-help manuals to point others to God. We only need to stop asking "How?" or "When?" or "Why?" and simply start doing.

When we stop asking and start doing, then (and only then), will these square holes stop being filled with round pegs. Then, and only then, will those without fathers or mothers find the One who fulfills what they've been seeking all along. And then, and only then, will we become those flesh and blood fathers and mothers to those people.

There are so many broken and so many hurting and devastated because one of the two (or even both) of the people who are always supposed to love them have abandoned them. Will we come to their rescue? Or will we hide behind a facade of ignorance, hoping that if we pretend long enough, the problem will simply disappear?

The need is evident. The command is simple.

Love the orphan.

Care for the fatherless.

Provide for the motherless.

And, above all else, point them toward the One who has been there all along.

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Questions: Do you know anybody who is growing up without a father or mother? What keeps you from caring for them? How do you desire to help them? What would that (practically speaking) look like for you this week?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading! 

Win of the Week

...Huh? What?

Oh, yes, yes. Hi there.

I feel like I've been knocked upside the head with a sledgehammer.

BUT, regardless of how I feel, today is Friday!

(cue the party hats, streamers, and balloons)

And, since it's Friday, regardless of how we feel, we celebrate. We share our Win of the Week with one another, because, after a long week, we sometimes need a pat on the back!

I'm having a difficult time deciding on my Win of the Week. It's been a pretty exciting week. We were able to spend time with family this past weekend. I also had an interview for a potential Master's Program earlier on in the week. Then, later on in the week, we turned in our "big" senior paper (which I finished a couple of weeks ago - but more on that later).

It's so difficult to pick sometimes, which I suppose isn't a terrible problem to have.

I guess I'd have to say that my Win of the Week would have to be... guest posting at Kerry's blog! Kerry has recently started following along here at Life Before the Bucket and brings an entirely new perspective to me as I write. I thought I'd return the favor to her by posting about rest, so be sure to check it out sometime today and leave your thoughts on the post that I wrote!

So... What about you? What was your Win of the Week?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading! 

Surprise!

What's this? Two posts in one day? Color me befuddled!

That's right, folks. I'm here for a second time today.

But I'm here to send you away.

So leave! Go away!

Oh, wait, I forgot to tell you where to go.

Check out Kerry's Heady Brew for a guest post I just wrote as a part of a series on rest!

I would've posted about it this morning, but she's in Australia, and time's all... metric, and stuff. So it's morning there now! Check it out!

Leap Day, Part Deux

Yesterday was a unique day. February 29th only rears its head every four years, but now it's come and gone.

In honor of Leap Day, we speculated. We dreamed. We imagined what it would be like to have an extra day to live.

Most of the answers were simple. None of them were extravagant (like buying a sports car and racing it in the country). I think that our Leap Day exercise is more than speculation, though. It seems to reveal something about us.

When we imagine what we would do with our last day alive, we often reveal that which we value the most.

So, for most of you, it seems, family trumps all. Most likely, I'd fall under this category as well. I can't imagine a better way to spend my last day alive than with those who have invested in me from day one.

What, though, does this mean for us practically? As far as I know, there hasn't been a scientist yet that could predict the exact day of a person's death (though some websites try), at least not with any sort of consistency.

And I know for sure that nobody has the technology to give a person an extra day to live. So what do we make of this? Is this exercise helpful beyond stretching our imaginations? Well, I'd like to think it is.

You see, from my perspective, every day is a gift. I've always been sick and I always will be sick. I've never had a shortened life expectancy placed upon me, but there have been days when, in sickness, I feel lucky to be alive.

It's like every single day that I wake up is an extra day to live. Every day that I get to enjoy is one day longer than I'm promised that I'll live. After all, I'm not promised tomorrow by anyone or anything. Tomorrow hasn't yet happened, and there's no guarantee that it will.

But today... Today is here. Today is now. Today is happening, and it's another day beyond what we've been promised. It's almost as if we've been given an extra day to live (even if it doesn't seem that way).

So reflect on your Leap Day exercise and then remember: you've been given that extra day. What did you say you were going to do with it? What's keeping you from that? If we were in our "extra day" scenario, would you let work or school or stress stop you from doing what you want to do most with your last day alive?

Take today seriously, friends. It's all we've been promised. It's a gift we've been given. We can leave it sitting, wrapped neatly, and wondering what it holds. Or we can tear it open like a 5 year old on their birthday.

Yesterday has passed  and will never be again. Tomorrow may never come. But today? Today is happening right as we speak. Make the most of it while you still can.

... ... ...

Questions: What might keep you from doing what you enjoy most today? How can you get around these obstacles to enjoy today fully?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading! 

image credit: yunior - sxc.hu