I grew up thinking that I had to succeed through my own effort and understanding.
There was always something to figure out. Something to achieve. Some way I could become more capable and bring my life closer to what I wanted it to be.
I put a lot of faith in that process. If I could understand the world well enough, I could make the right decisions. If I could work hard enough, I could create the right outcome.
When I found Jesus, that began to change.
I started leaning on my faith. It made me happier, but it took years to understand how to live from it. Trust reached into the part of me that still wanted to make everything happen through my own understanding.
The change I am describing is very personal. It is the feeling of being loved without having to produce a reason for it. It is knowing that I can be grateful even when I don't understand my circumstances. It is the freedom of having a connection to God that is already here, before I accomplish anything.
That connection has become the core of my life.
I think of it as an inner treasure. Everything else has its place around it. The things I build, the ideas I have, and the way I move through a day can become expressions of that connection.
Work feels different from here. I enjoy creating. There is a lightness to it that I didn't know when I was asking achievement to give me something it could never hold permanently.
I can feel grateful before an outcome arrives. I can enjoy an idea without making my happiness depend on what it becomes. I can put care into what I am doing from a place of already feeling loved.
This is what I mean when I talk about freedom.
I have been through moments I would never have chosen. My gratitude is rooted in feeling that Christ is with me through them.
It took years to learn how to live from this. Now I feel a joy in simply being alive that I am grateful to have found.
I spent years trying to become someone who could secure the life I wanted.
Now I am grateful to receive the life in front of me, and to know that I am loved within it.
