Finally, A Purpose for God!

The past days have been full of rainfall. Tree branches trembling over each drop, plants getting fed and insects hiding in their mysterious homes waiting for the sun to appear again and I watch this through my window. Watch the world wet, gray and hiding.

And I think about my heart many years ago, today, beating faintly, quietly hiding so no one would see. Hiding the lies I believed of myself. I would lay in bed and weep for the me I couldn't find, sad over the me I despised. I too trembled, nurtured this self-pity, hurt, mourning the gray inside of me, beaten by the wet rain. My world was always in a downpour.

Funny thing is that for so many years I hid and wrapped up all that I thought was me in a bundle, like carrying a baby. I was protecting myself, defending my pain, feeding, crying for it, because of it. I believed that those parts of me are the things that made me, things I would never be able to let go of. And as I got older, so did the bundle, growing and I couldn't fit through doors and it was hard to stop and rest. This bundle became heavy, too big, too mine. I was its mother. I couldn't leave it behind.

Last night, someone asked what we believed we were here to do. What did we think God's plan was for us? My mouth spilled words, wanting, no, needing to help those that I once was. Inform those, warn them of bundles, mistakes, not to carry them, not to own them. And I said I believe my sacrificed youth was for the youth I will meet today.

An empty youth, to fill the lives of others.

That has to be it. Why would He allow us to go through trials and roads of pain and sorrow, of distorted beliefs and lies, so many lies? Why would He choose to see us suffer?

Why did He chose to see Him suffer?

So those pills swallowed and all the poking and scratchings of wrists and neck and the daring acts, the drunk walks home, the abuse, the beatings, the lies believing, the careless life led, all for a purpose. All for a reason and God is telling me I have a reason to be here today, despite the roads taken. I exhale the past, it seems to me that the only way to proclaim His glory is to let it out, rub it out of here and unwrapped the bundle that I carried all these years to show how wounded this little girl had become.

I was in a coma.

But here I am to show that God can work miracles.

I'm happy, I'm thankful of who I've become today. I appreciate where I am now. I don't need to be anywhere else.

But when Jesus, in the form of Harry, sat down beside me yesterday and tells me that I have a presence, that I am destined to do big things, I cried. Through the tossing and turning of last nights attempt to sleep I cried over and over, because for once in my life I have a purpose. I walked my life roads without knowing why, without ever feeling right, never feeling useful, but yesterday, my heart jolted, much like John's exaltation in the womb. It could only be from Him, for only through Him does joy come forth so abundantly. Only through Him can my heart leap and tremble in hope. Is He saying that He really does have something for me? Is He giving me a responsibility over His people? Is He saying I am worthy?

And as the faces of my children come to mind, a yes in the form of small eyes and loving expressions. It has started already and I jump out of bed and kneel deep to say thanks. How blind I've become to His mission. How so terribly blind to think I had no cause, just here to live to die, that's it.

Finally, I see the point Lord. Empty, open, vulnerable, raw. I've already jumped into the unknown, into a place where I'm known very intimately. He knows me well, all of me. He put me on my mission the moment I was formed. We all have a special mission for God, but the whisper is very hard to hear when your pain has become too loud.

I'm ready to own up to this life but with a different heart, different eyes.

My bundle, slowly unwrapping.

God bless!