Deeper breaths.  Clearer thinking.  Fuller happiness.

Inspiration gives me all this.

But why can’t I inspire myself?

Why is there always an encounter required to receive the passion, vision or joy that we long to cling to daily?

Each morning I pry my eyes apart to see the dusty ceiling of my room.  I pray hard that I’ll have the strength to step off the bed and back into reality.  I pray harder that today will mean something – and have purpose.

I hate the empty days.

I only want the exciting, energizing, mobilizing, stimulating, impelling days that glimmer the sheen of an inspired, passionate, empowered Spirit. The days when your fingers guide your poetry and your heart begets the music.

Those few beautiful days of inspiration, it seems I don’t have to pray as hard for purpose.  As ironic as it sounds, when I wake up in a spirit of worship, after an evening of seeking the face and glory of God, inspiration is not anything I have to pursue.

Inspiration finds me.

It flows from its Source and into my heart, mind, body and soul.  I can’t summon its forces.  It summons me.  While I can plead with the Higher power for a day of revelation, the appeals aren’t likely to succeed.

When I walk away from the mirror, and stop praying for the things I see and know, and begin the selfless journey to please the Lord with my obedience and heart of service, it is then that my spirit is awakened by Him.

To live a life inspired is to live a life abandoned.

Relinquishing plans to be successful, pretty or perfect, humility is the ignition to a day of self-actualization and attainable dreams.

As I decrease, and fall in love with my Creator a little more each day, I am sure to see the days of inspiration find me more frequently.

So, glory to His name.

The author of inspiration.

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