Born With A Beating Heart

Holding my newborn daughter for the first time, I felt something I can’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just love—it was awe.

She hadn’t done anything yet. No achievements. No milestones. Just breath in her lungs and a beating heart. And somehow, that was everything.

She came into the world crying, breathing, fully alive—with a heart already pumping, lungs expanding, tiny fingers curling around mine, and wide eyes blinking into the light. No training. No preparation. No instruction manual. Just life—fully present and unfolding.

That’s when it hit me: she didn’t have to earn a single thing to be here. Not her breath. Not her heartbeat. Not the systems quietly working inside her to keep her alive.

It was all simply there.

And the same is true for you.

And for me.

From the moment we’re born, our bodies begin operating with so much precision:

• Our hearts beat over 100,000 times a day.

  
  

• Our lungs draw in more than 20,000 breaths—without our permission or awareness.

  
  

• Our immune systems fight off threats we never even notice.

  
  

• Our brains process pain, memory, hunger, emotion, and thought—faster than any machine.

  
  

• And even while we sleep, our bodies repair, reset, and restore.

  
  

We didn’t build these systems. We didn’t qualify for them, or prove ourselves worthy. We didn’t even know to ask for them. But they were given to us anyway.

And maybe that should change the way we live.

Most of the time, we take better care of the things we worked hard to earn. We protect what cost us something. But the most priceless thing we’ve ever received—life itself—came at no cost to us. And maybe that’s why we so often overlook it.

It didn’t come with a receipt or a trophy. But it’s worth everything.

Still, we drift. We wake up. We scroll. We stress. We sleep—without stopping to notice the miracle we’re living in.

But what if we saw our lives differently?

What if we didn’t treat our bodies like burdens, but like masterpieces already in motion?

What if we moved, ate, and rested—not out of guilt, pressure, or worldly standards—but out of gratitude for what we’ve been given?

What if we stopped chasing what’s next long enough to notice what’s already here?

This life isn’t random. It’s not meaningless. You were given breath. A heartbeat. A beautifully designed body to carry you through this world—on purpose.

So don’t just survive it. Steward it.

Live with intention. Care for what you’ve been given. Wake up to the wonder already inside you. You don’t have to earn your worth—but you do get to honor it.

Because you were made for more than just making it through.

You were made to live.