Better Than Life

24 September 2026

This morning, I found myself sitting on my bed, literally bawling my eyes out.

Not because I am sad.

But because I am overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed by the realization that I actually have a registered business.

I knew I loved creating things.

I knew I loved writing.

I knew I loved working with my hands.

But I don't think I fully understood just how much passion was sitting inside of me.

This morning, something hit me.

Even if nobody ordered from me, even if nobody bought anything, even if I were creating simply because I wanted to create — I would still do it.

I would still think about products.

I would still imagine names and fragrances and packaging.

I would still be thinking about what I could make next.

I would still write.

I would still create.

Because somewhere along the way, this stopped being just something I sell.

It became something I love.

And then there is the part that completely blows my mind:

Other people love what I create too.

They see something I have imagined in my head, something I have mixed with my hands, something I have packaged and labelled, something that started as an idea — and they say, “I want that.”

And they are willing to pay me for it.

How does that not make you stop and cry?

I have a brain that still dreams.

Hands that still work.

Ideas that still come.

A heart that still gets excited about creating something beautiful.

And perhaps I have been looking at these things as ordinary when they are actually gifts.

“Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you.”

— Psalm 63:3

Better than life.

That phrase has been sitting with me this morning.

Because there are moments when you realize that what gives you joy isn't necessarily the money, the orders, the recognition or even the business itself.

It is the life that God has breathed into you.

The ability to think.

To dream.

To create.

To use your hands.

To take something that didn't exist yesterday and bring it into existence today.

And then I thought about another Scripture:

“You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.”

— Acts 2:28

The paths of life.

Perhaps this is one of mine.

Not because everything is figured out.

Not because I know exactly where this business is going.

Not because I have some huge five-year plan.

But because I know that when I am creating, something inside me comes alive.

And maybe that is why I have to ask myself a very honest question:

How can I still be so busy with everybody else's business when I have my own business to tend to?

How can I keep looking at what everybody else is doing when there is something in my own hands that needs nurturing?

How can I spend so much time tending to everybody else's gardens when God has placed a garden in my own hands?

I have my own business to build.

My own ideas to develop.

My own products to create.

My own words to write.

My own customers to serve.

My own little corner of the marketplace to tend to.

And more importantly, I have my Father's business to be busy with.

I think about Jesus' words when He said:

“Did you not know that I must be about My Father's business?”

— Luke 2:49

And perhaps that is where my heart needs to settle.

Not comparison.

Not watching everybody else.

Not wondering what they are doing.

Not measuring my beginning against someone else's middle.

Just being faithful with what has been placed in my hands.

This morning, I am grateful.

Grateful that my mind still dreams.

Grateful that my hands still create.

Grateful that I can still learn.

Grateful that I can still write.

Grateful that I can still imagine something and then figure out how to make it real.

And grateful that somebody else can look at what I have created and see enough value in it to say:

“I'll take it.”

That still blows my mind.

So yes, I am sitting on my bed crying this morning.

But these are not tears of defeat.

They are tears of realization.

I am realizing that perhaps this thing inside me is bigger than I thought.

Perhaps the passion was there all along.

Perhaps I just needed to stop long enough to notice it.

And perhaps this is what it means to be alive:

To discover that there is still something in you that wants to create, build, write, dream and serve.

So today, I don't want to be busy with everybody else's business.

I want to be busy with what God has entrusted to me.

My Father's business.

And whatever He chooses to do with these hands, this mind, these ideas and this little business of mine...

I want to be faithful with it.

Because this morning I have discovered something:

The joy isn't only in what I am building.

The joy is in realizing that I am still being given something to build.

And that?

That feels better than life.