Friday, September 17, 2021

I Must Have Purpose

Thanks to Free-Photos via Pixabay


What is my purpose?

To live without purpose is to die.

I must have a purpose for doing a thing or it becomes a useless task, worse than a drudgery, wasted effort, meaningless.

And I can’t live in a state of meaninglessness – it makes me physically sick, exhausted, depressed.

So, in all my efforts that I must do I look for meaning. Purpose. Reality. Identity.

Like climbing a mountain so I can see clearly the view from the top.

Because reality is where I am on solid ground, where I anchor … my strength.

But if that anchor shifts or my solid ground quakes and crumbles, my reality disappears. I lose myself. Then I must go through the pain of searching and grasping for yet another reality.

When Jesus is my purpose, I am finished searching. If I feel my strength give way or my reality fading, I know my feet are in the wrong place. They are not on the Solid Rock. They have somehow slipped off. I look for Him and find Him and gain strength, peace, purpose.

Jesus is my Reality.

Jesus is my Purpose.

I can see my life from the top.

That boyfriend in high school was never my strength. That career was never my identity. That house was never my purpose.

Ever since I gave my life to Him it has always been

Jesus.

 

FMF


Read other thoughtful offerings at FMF Writing Prompt Link-up :: Purpose - Five Minute Friday

Friday, September 3, 2021

City





I used to live in the big city. Phoenix is a pretty big city (especially now, but back in the 70s it was still huge).

I am distracted while writing this. It’s a beautiful morning, cool, crisp, windows open, and I already ran my errands and all I need to do is go to work this afternoon. Writing is a luxury I don’t always get to do and I’m loving it.

The distraction is my daughter talking to me, which is completely alright with me.

So, I’m adding a bit of time to the Five Minutes this Friday because of that.

And outside the children in the field over to the east are running and playing with their dog. Out to the west the highway traffic is low, then loud, then quiet. To the south a cardinal is scolding a cat and the cicadas are singing, vibrating, and creating a high-pitched, sometimes annoying symphony. To the north the railroad tracks await the afternoon train as a private plane soars beneath the high-altitude clouds.

And I think, why would I ever want to move back to the big city where it’s noisy and dirty and cramped and your neighbors know what you are doing and crawl over your wall to kill birds or cats or trees they think are not city approved or dangerous to the neighborhood, or where your personal flag out front is ripped up or stolen and the family down the street has fights loud enough to register on a scale in space.

The city was a fantastic place for restaurants, concerts, beaches (yes, even in Phoenix), parks and tons of activities. But the freedom of purchase always outweighed income, and freedom quickly became very expensive.

I have been blessed to be allowed to live in the country; a space that reminds me of my laid-back days at my grandmother’s house; a space that changes year by year, season by season; a space with infinite possibilities and second chances.

Thank You, Father.

~

Random note: My daughter said my super power is essential oils.

Witness

  Living out in the country like we do, I get to witness new things every week. Like this morning, I went out to feed the barn cats and re...