As I ran the second half of my run this evening, I grew tired. Setting my sight at a point beyond the din of traffic running across the bridges for Interstate 95 over my head, I thought, “I’ll stop at the end of the bridge.” Something inside me protested this idea—after all, fixing my sight on the end was no way to keep going. That only made me want to stop running all the more. Isn’t it when we set our sights on the end of things that we forget to live? We become so fixated on the end that we forget about the beginnings that are all around us. We live inside the things that aren’t, rather than living in what is.

How much easier it can feel to live in what isn’t. The author I read last night spoke of how we declassify things by what we see as a negative. Rather than seeing the steadfast friend and loyal brother or son, we see the single man who hasn’t found a wife yet. Instead of celebrating the couple who are a phenomenal aunt and uncle, we wonder why they never had kids.The tendency can be to look for the thing that is missing rather than regarding the good that is right there before us.

Living in what is means considering how our faith impacts us in the now, rather than seeing it as a means to escape the end. Living in what is in our relationships means savoring the people that are close to us rather than limiting our investment because we can’t be guaranteed that we’ll always feel good about it. Living in the end robs us of our creativity, keeps us from taking risks, and limits our potential.

The end isn’t at hand, at least most of us can’t see it. Tonight I’m reaching for the spray paint, and I’m going to paint my clouds from the inside out and live inside the silver lining.