What Really Matters

Lately, my time has been consumed by figuring out the “meaning of life.” (I don't think this is one problem I will ever solve.) This year is a big year for me. I say that because I will turn an age that I am not comfortable admitting when my birthday rolls around come October. Life has been challenging, but such is life.

The other day I was wasting my time looking at some photos for a FB friend of mine. There was one picture that was just precious; it is of a friend in a developing country with a local child. A comment left by another friend stated something like this: The local people are SO happy and don't realize that they don't have anything.

After mulling that statement over in my mind, I started to think. (Yes, I know that this can be dangerous.) What makes me happy? I replayed my adventures abroad and stateside. I thought of my childhood and what brought me to where I am today.

What makes me happy is the thought of flying home to see my family even if it's only for a short visit. I tear up every time I think of all the sacrifices my parents have made to see me succeed. Put my niece and nephews on the phone or Skype and I am over the moon. Helping and serving those around me feeds my soul. If I can make someone laugh during the day, then my day has been a success.

I don't need a brand new car every couple of years. Public transportation suits me just fine. I don't need a over-sized house, fancy jewelery, or designer clothes. All I need at the end of the day is the love of my friends, family, and my Heavenly Father. Everything else is secondary.

The local people of that developing country may not have running water, sanitation, or the modern conveniences but at the end of the day, they have their families, community, and their religion. That my friends is what makes them happy. They are happy because they have what really matters. Nothing can compare to the love that you have for your family, your fellow man, or your God.