Purpose

"pur-pose: (n) the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists" Oxford English Dictionary

Purpose. It's such a weighty word. Having a purpose in life propels us forward, upward. It inspires and energizes us. It is the reason we thrill at waking each morning, eager to greet the new day. In short, it gives meaning to everything we do. Purpose is life-sustaining water for our souls. With it we thrive... without it we languish and wither.

I think the word purpose has such heft because we often link it in our minds to big things, huge accomplishments, lasting legacies, but truthfully, purpose finds its greatest fulfillment in all the little things we do each and every day. I think for me, purpose is best defined in meeting the day's tasks and interactions with as much care, genuineness, and intentionality as possible.

Many years ago (though it feels but the blink of an eye) when my children were still at home, we had conversations about the purpose of life. I talked with them from a biblical perspective about why we are put here on this earth... what God's plan is for each of us. With the most straightforward explanation, I told them that we are here to give glory to God in all we do, to worship Him, and to serve Him by serving our fellow man.

That definition might seem too simplistic for some, but for me it covers all the bases and fuels how I aspire to shape my life.

Two weeks ago I got a call from my daughter, our youngest. She is early on in her first pregnancy and had contracted Covid. She sounded just awful on the phone as this virus hit her hard, and, being pregnant, the typical meds for fighting it off weren't recommended for her. My mother's heart went out to her, so I asked if she'd like me to come to Katy. She did, so I went.

For about a half second I thought about the possibility that I might contract the virus too if I went, but as Tom and I both expressed, we go when family needs us, and especially when they ask for us. Purpose trumps self-preservation every time. And, just in case you're curious, I came through the week with flying colors.

The week I spent with Sarah and her husband, who also came down with Covid while I was there, was a labor of love. I made meals, sanitized everything I could get my hands on, did laundry, and played with the pups. I wish my kids hadn't had to go through that illness, but it felt really good to be able to help make their life a little easier. Being there that week was my purpose. It may seem an insignificant thing as far as purpose goes, but it had a heft all its own for each of us sharing it.

It's pretty amazing how little things become big when purpose enters the equation.

To sit in a hospital room holding someone's hand. To give a silent embrace to a grieving heart. To cuddle a crying infant. To read a book to a child. To make soup for a sick neighbor, or cookies to greet the new. To offer a knowing glance or an encouraging word at just the right moment. To speak life to the discouraged. To cheer on those trying. To kiss the scraped knee. To play catch with the kids. To put out food for the birds. To visit the lonely. To belly laugh with a friend. To make a meal for your family...

ALL... PURPOSE.

One of the most profound statements I ever came across, and I sincerely wish I could remember who wrote it, was from a devotional I read many years ago. This particular piece of writing focused on the reality of EVERY life having a purpose. The author went on to say that even for an individual who was no longer able to care for himself, no longer able to perform even the most basic life tasks of feeding, dressing, personal care, there was STILL purpose for their life. Their purpose, the writer said, was simply to "BE" that they might be the fulfillment of another's purpose in caring for them.

That statement blew me away. EVERY life has a purpose and a God-ordained plan.

My dad's mother ended up having to be in a nursing home in her later life. She was there for a number of years, and as her dementia progressed and her physical condition deteriorated, she was moved to more and more skilled nursing areas. Before she died, she had a room in the most advanced care they offered. She was completely bedridden, hard of hearing, and nearly blind, but she still had a purpose.

I can remember hearing her voice as we'd approach her room to visit. It was lifted in song... those beautiful old Baptist hymns she learned as a child. She didn't talk much, but she sang, and she witnessed with the voice she had left about her Lord and Savior. It was a beautiful thing, and it was purpose defined.

Some of note will go on to leave marks the world will experience and remember, and society as a whole will collectively be better for it. Most of the rest of us will leave marks only in the hearts, minds, and lives of those in our own small spheres. Either way, purpose is fulfilled; and the heft and weight of it, no matter how small, how seemingly insignificant in the world's eyes, will have left a big imprint...

on those sharing it.