ALIVE

You Don’t Possess Life — You Embody It

Life isn’t something we own. It’s something we become. When I stepped off the well-worn path and ventured into the unknown, something beautiful happened — I witnessed the thankfulness woven into every aspect of nature. This gratitude didn’t just surround me; it took root within me. Because we, too, are part of that same creation — shaped from the same clay.

From God, we received the sky and stars, the rhythm of day and night, the trees, the wind, the air we breathe, and the sacred ground beneath our feet. We were gifted a season — space and time — not just to exist, but to transition. This life is a crossing point: from death into life, from a fallen nature into a resurrected state.

There’s a deep ache in each of us — a longing to fulfill our divine purpose. As one ancient prayer cries out, "Postpone our dreams no longer, Lord. At long last, do what You were born to do." That cry doesn’t come from our lips alone, but from the deepest place within us — a place already reaching toward God’s presence, already yearning for the destination He placed in our hearts.

Yes, our bodies are mortal. But our souls — they are eternal. And while the concept of eternity can feel abstract or distant, perhaps even frightening, it becomes clearer when we realize this: death isn’t the end. It’s simply a shift. The fear comes from not knowing what lies beyond, but once we understand that we’re already tethered to eternity, that fear begins to fall away.

We are like film frames — one scene after another. One moment, you’re here in flesh and breath; the next, you’re in a frame of a different kind. Time melts away. Space transforms. And you realize: your physical body, however fragile, was a sacred vessel. It allowed you to move, to eat, to embrace, to speak love aloud. And while our time on earth ends, the love we’ve shared — that endures forever. The bonds that matter most will never break.

This is the miracle we glimpse through Jesus Christ. His resurrection wasn’t just a return to life — it was the transcendence of death. He surrendered his body, knowing it would rise again. He became the living sacrifice, and in doing so, revealed something utterly divine: a transformation that defies the laws of this world.

The tomb was not the end — it was the doorway. And so it will be for us. We will pass through, just as He did, and emerge on the other side. Resurrected. Alive in a way we can scarcely comprehend.

On earth, as it is in Heaven.