I'm not living in fear of God anymore

It's the week or so after Easter Sunday. I can't help continuing to reflect on Easter. It's one of the greatest days of hope and renewal. A fresh start. A new dawn. 

It's the day that makes me question the term god-fearing more than any other. 

I'm at the point in my life where I worry that a fear of the divine will hold me back, more than guide and set me free. 

I want to focus so much more on who I am to be instead of what I'm not to be. 

I get that more and more from looking at the words of the Savior himself. There was a specifically positive message for the majority of his speaking. A productive message. And I need to live that.

Love God. Show him you do by loving your neighbor. 

That's the crux of it all right. The thesis. 

We can get into more details. Mourn with those who mourn. Stand with those in need of comfort. Do it unto the least of these. Share talents. Grow talents. Be the Good Samaritan. 

I have things I can. Things I need to do. To be more like the epitome of Godliness (and dare I say epitome of manliness) in this life. I don't have time to be afraid.

No I have no time to be afraid. I don't have time to worry. I have a work to do.

The highest calling, the most meaning I can bring to my life; is to be in earnest service to my fellow man. 

That's the game. That takes effort. So much effort. It requires knowing and loving those around us. It requires us to have ourselves to offer.

I have so much work to do.

Nothing else has motivated me more.

There's a peace in purpose. There's a dynamic of meaning. A surety. I haven't had before.

Tangibly helping our fellow men. That's all I need to do. 

I worry less about eliminating the sins and foibles in my life. I'm worried more about I need to do. That may strike some people as odd. But I can't focus on the negative anymore. I need to focus on what I can do. God will take care of the rest.

That's what hope feels like I think. 

I can be better than I've ever been. I don't need to be afraid of who I was anymore.

P.S.

I began writing this Easter Sunday before the death of Pope Francis. I can't help but reflect his outlook moving forward. It's changed my focus on this one. 

“Every time I enter one of these places, I ask myself: ‘Why them and not me?”

What was he speaking about, washing the feet of prisoners. Why did he have the privilege he had instead of them? 

It struck me. And I've been sitting with that. Living with it for a couple weeks now.

I have an urge to do more. Be better. Not for myself. But for my family, friends, and community.

Pope Francis walked the walk and talked the talk. That alone has inspired a level of holy envy. But there's an inspiration in thinking how much he has done to help the downtrodden.

I can do better. I can do more.

That's what he would want. Just like the Savior would have me do.