"I feel like spring after winter, and sun on the leaves; and like trumpets and harps, and all the songs I have ever heard!"
-Sam

I find writing to be easiest during times of turmoil. But writing is probably a little like prayer-over used in times of sorrow and forgotten in times of joy. I wrote while I was happy in New Zealand, why should America be any different?

In the past year I have struggled a lot with discovering my purpose. I want to do what I was made to do. Since graduation, I have experienced a waning of anxiety related to finding my purpose. I'm not sure why I feel less burdened; I haven't done anything differently. What I do know is that life beyond the walls of college, outside the borders of New Zealand, and within the confines of my half-cubicle is better than it has ever been before. And after hours in the car, at my biosafety cabinet, and on the trails/treadmill alone this is what I have discovered:

1. I was made to do things. My purpose is one of action. I was made to work hard and be busy. I was made to accomplish things and to push beyond my comfort zone. As my dad has always said, "the pursuit of leisure is a bad thing". I am purposed to pursue hard work. Rest is only good and healing if we have something to rest from.
2. I was made to move. I have muscles and ligaments and tendons and bones because I was made to be in motion. Exercise is good, but an active life is even better. More walking, more playing with the puppy, more cleaning, more cooking. Less TV, less pre-made food, less laying on the couch, less facebooking.
3. I was made to love. My purpose, as a human, is to love. Not romantically, although that certainly is nice, but filially. I was made for "brotherly love". We were all made to be in loving relationship with other human beings. We were made honor the needs of others above our own. We were made to forgive and be merciful. I can't live this life on my own. If you think putting the needs of others first is too hard, wait until you are alone and then tell me I'm wrong.

It is best to love first what you are fitted to love, I suppose: you must start somewhere and have some roots...