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Living My Best Life

Earlier this week I was describing my turning twenty experience to my childhood best friend. It involved a lot of alcohol and not a lot of memories. I was beating myself up about it a little and I was feeling guilty that I let things get so out of hand—that I let myself get out of hand. She told me, “It’s okay, as long as you’re living your best life. You had fun right, so don’t worry.”
That day, nursing what has been the worst hangover of my life, I chose to allow her comforting words to lull my guilty conscience. I was able to convince myself that yes, I had fun. Yes, having fun means I was indeed living my best life. Three days later, with a clearer head and more importantly a heart filled with the Holy Spirit, I have come to terms with the truth.
No. Plain and simple: no, I was not living my best life. Why? Well, there is one simple answer.
When Jesus was carrying that cross after having been betrayed, beaten, ridiculed, and spat upon, He was imagining my best life. He wanted to make s…

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