I had a deep, soulful conversation with one of my my longest-time friends last night (on Facebook chat, of all things). This friend is someone I've scarcely talked to over the last fifteen years, but when our fingers began flying across the keyboard, it was as though all those years of growing in wildly different directions had changed nothing.
I realized something surprising as I listened to my friend reminisce: part of me--one of the best, worth-keeping-around, worth-fighting-for parts of me--has been part of me for all these fifteen years, and probably more.
Sometimes my inclination is to tell myself that the best parts of myself have only emerged recently (i.e. since I've fully and intentionally embraced who I'm called by God to be), but that story isn't true. I've just had trouble naming or owning some of them before now.
In what ways do I allow the resurrected aspects of myself overshadow or swallow up the life-giving aspects of the life I lived before? In what ways do my life now match (or perhaps pale in comparison to) my past? What might I learn about my old-time self from the words of the people I love if I listened to them talk about me, and what about my old life do I still need to invite forward as I live my Easter life?