Sundays haven't been my favorite day of the week for years. I think this is because we went to a little church during the 60s and had to be there every time the doors opened, or felt we had to. I had two children in school and had gone back to college and had homework and papers to write and housework to do. . . All those things plus showing up at church three or four times a week. My daughters hated going to church on Sunday night because they were the only kids they knew who didn't get to watch "Wonderful World of Disney." (This was way before DVR.) I hated going on Wednesday night, as well as Sunday, because I had homework and had to get up early the next morning. Sometimes I wished I could bring my work with me and do it during church. (You can see how much I was getting out of the service.)
Yesterday, as I sat at my make up table, that old "I wish I didn't have to go" came over me. I immediately began talking to God and trying to figure out why I had this feeling. One thing that came to me (besides the old having to be in church stuff) was wondering if I really have a purpose in my life. I've always had to feel I've accomplished something, and I wondered, "What have I accomplished? What is my purpose besides just living day by day and growing old?" So I asked God to speak to me. And, true to His word--Ask and you shall receive--He spoke.
The scripture--Philippians 2--was His answer. "If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort in His love, if any fellowship with the spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and PURPOSE.....Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus; who being in very nature God.....made himself nothing...."
Chapter two through verse eleven says it all. I am not to be consumed by anything except the cross. I am to empty myself and let the Holy Spirit give me His purpose. If I can do this, I have accomplished everything.
What do you feel is your purpose?
No comments:
Post a Comment