A while back my daughters, M and A, listened to “Born to Be Wild” in the car. The song is a 60s tune about rebellion against authority, heading off for adventure, and seeking meaning in adventure. Well, M identified with it completely. She says it is her song, she says she was born to be wild. One day she turned to her sister and said somewhat condescendingly, “I was born to be wild, but I don’t think you were, A!” A thought about it for a second, and then she said quietly and joyfully “No, I was born to love!”
Query for prayerful consideration:
Do I truly live out of the knowledge that I was born to love? And born to be wild?