Life is beautiful, or at least I thought so. Maybe there is some truth to this overtly optimistic statement. It gives hope to the dying soul, it placates the troubled mind, and it assures light at the end of the tunnel for the lost traveler. These words encourage the crestfallen face of the defeated and build patience in those tired of waiting.

But is life really beautiful? What exactly is beauty? Is it the cars, the high-paying jobs, the parties, or the decadence promoted by our contemporary society? I ponder. In my state of search, through empiricism, I noticed that the beauty in life is rooted in it’s punctuations of suffering and our ability to survive and thrive despite the suffering. The beauty in life is more than the luxury that we tend to pursue. It lies in the ability to be at peace in the time of war and embrace freedom in confinement, to bloom in hell, and find hope in despair, to breathe underwater, and see in darkness, to discover light in the abyss and embrace warmth in the cold. The beauty in life is to sacrifice today for tomorrow, to give yourself selflessly for the better, to care for others as you care for yourself, the beauty in life is to die so others may live.
This means that fulfilling the lustful desires of the heart robs us of experiencing the beauty in life. Focusing on these desires is the problem; we lose the authentic beauty in life when we focus on the ostentatious display of self and riches.

My faith guides me through life. Christ is my North Star, without whom life is meaningless to me. Every day I struggle with being like Christ, serving Him as my Lord and Savior, or giving in to the lustful desires of my flesh. This dilemma questions the authenticity of my love for Christ. Why should I struggle between serving the One who died so that I may live or the one who wants me dead and gone?

Every day I seek realignment, like a ship, I keep looking at the compass hoping to align with the North Star. My ship begins to drift the moment I take my eyes off the lover of my soul. This life of Christ seems insipid, humdrum, boring; the life of the world seems colorful, stimulating, and tasty. The life of Christ assures eternal joy, peace, empathy, and forgiveness, but it demands that we look beyond ourselves, that we look up to Him and follow His dictates, if that were any easier. My natural proclivity is to choose the life of the world, oh how great it looks—the party, the sensuality, the fame, the money, the power. Oh, what a sweet poison, good for the tongue, bad for the soul, it kills a man slowly but surely.

After my sad visit to the world, I come back in sobriety to my Father, to my King, not in shame but in godly guilt, knowing that He should be my all in all. He embraces me with forgiveness, disciplines me as a father would his child, then remains at my side. But not for long; the world begins calling me, showing me the seeming beauty of their world, urging me to leave my Father, the Creator of heaven and earth and everything in it. I am swayed away like a child hungry for candy. I fall for their tricks. I know it is a trick, but yet I fall. After a while, my eyes are open to see that I do not belong here, then I head home to Him who died for me.

This is a pitiful cycle. Now I scream the words of Saint Paul: “Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?”
The answer to this existential question is soothing and calming:
“Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: in my mind I really want to obey God’s law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin.”
Now I see the beauty in life through the lens of the cross. If one died for all, then all died, so I must live for the One who died for me. I no longer attach the beauty of this world to frivolous things but to the most beautiful, most holy, and most merciful God, the Father of my Lord Jesus Christ. When life gets tough and it seems like I have descended to hell, I don’t fret; I smile knowing that Christ was once in hell and He prevailed, so will I. When the world mocks my righteous living or my attempts at righteousness, I smile, knowing that for the joy set before Him, He endured the cross. When I suffer in pain, I remember that He was bruised for my transgression. When I am thrown into the war of life, I am peaceful knowing that the punishment that brought me peace was upon Him. When I am losing the battle of life, I scream in joy, saying, “Thanks be unto God, who gives me the victory through Christ.”

I will sit in a luxury car knowing that it is nothing compared to the holy seat where I sit in the heavenly places, at the right hand of my Father. I will wear a $10,000 watch knowing that only God controls time. I will live in a mansion guarded by the best guards, knowing that He is my protector, my strong fortress, my most dependable prop and He doesn’t sleep nor slumber. I will keep my eyes stayed on He who created the earth, the heavens, and everything therein. Money, fame, luxury, and power become my servants—beneath me, not a god, for there is only one true God. He is the Father of light, and this light is Christ Jesus.