Purpose

意

I spent this week in a group of people who have all worn the same pair of shoes.

It's an ugly pair, one that doesn't fit anyone. But a pair that's forced onto many feet just the same. 

I spent this week having a purpose. 

I felt like I had an idea why I made it through those six years.

But when a seven-year-old, playing in your lap, looks into your eyes and asks if life gets better, 

My small sense of competency vanishes.

What am I supposed to say?

I don't know?

Maybe?

Sometimes?

Every once in a while?

Because let's face it. I was ready to give up last week. It's happened a lot before, and in all probability it's going to happen again. I went through the motions of breathing, eating, and sleeping not because I wanted to do so, but because I think there's a purpose for my existence. I think there's a reason this all happened. I want there to be. I want that desperately.  

I want there to be a meaning, because without meaning, life is just pain. 

There must be someone out there that I can touch. Or change. Or something. 

But what do I say to the little girl awaiting my reply?

Sunshine, I don't know what to tell you. 

It might get easier, but it doesn't go away. 

You are not the product of what happened, but you will be affected by it.

You will face temptations that threaten to overpower you. 

And I don't know if it'll get better. 

The shoes might only fit worse and worse. 

It's a small consolation, but there's a reason for it. 

And I can't even tell you what that is.

All I can do is try to protect you.

Then I realize I can't even really do that. 

Again, I'm overwhelmed with a sense of failure.

What is my purpose?

I don't know. Moreover, I don't know if I can achieve it.

All I know is that there is a precious child on my lap. 

And there is something within me still moving. 

And I'm not quite ready to give those up. 

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Sometimes people have to hold me up. 

Am I supposed to support others when I can't even stand?

But why else am I here?

All I know is that I can hold someone in my lap. I can let them cry. I can hand them tissues. And I can tell them I know it hurts. And that I know they are stronger.

Jeremiah 29:11: "'For I know the plans I have for you,' says the Lord, 'Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future full of hope.'"

Lord, what am I supposed to do?

Please give me the will and the ability to make it through today and to find and fulfill my purpose.