As we sat there over pancakes she asked–competely out of nowhere–“What makes you feel most alive? What makes you feel the most you?”
A bit frightened at the sincerity of her question I struggled for an answer. But then it came to me. It is something I’d thought about a hundred times over.
“I feel most alive when I sit alone in a coffee shop. Me and my book. My journal. My letters. I write and I read and I pour my heart out, only in thought and written word, and I feel so intellectual and content.”
She explained that she feels most alive talking to people. Having heart-felt discussions about the faith. Listening and learning. Sharing and growing. “The other day I met with someone for the first time and when I drove home I’m sure that people thought I was crazy. I had the biggest smile on my face and it wouldn’t go away for the world.”
“Well,” I responded, “it is a good thing you’re going to be a missionary.”
“It is a good thing you’re going to be a librarian.”