for when we question His purpose

I lean over porcelain sink and stare long into the mirror, deep brown eyes watching fingers briefly touch the lone wrinkle across my forehead.

Another year past.

Here, I linger.

I stop short and stare into the face of the days, a grand total of 365 yesterdays.

Taking a deep breath, I expel slowly and close my eyes and pretend for just a minute that time is frozen, that the small man behind the face of the mantel clock has taken a short vacation and I am just able to relax and stop in the knowing that life isn’t slowly passing by.

What’s the purpose of it all?

I throw the question into the coming year’s face. All we do is get older, change just a little bit more, get a little bit pudgier, find another gray hair, another wrinkle, another friend, another career, more opportunities, but really… when we stop and consider it, what is the ultimate purpose?

I don’t know, but I can feel it.

Two thousand twelve wants to change me.

I hear someone in the living room say “only ten more minutes” so I hurry outside and start the car so it’s warm for the getaway once we’ve welcomed the new year. The wind chills me as I run, then I stop suddenly and stare into the darkness, into the shriek of wind running recklessly through the trees around the house.

It is here I want to stand, arms crossed against my chest, push myself into the wind, this wind circling the earth, around and around like hands on a clock, time marching on… and like I said, I want to stop it all here, stand stoic against this bitter earth breath and freeze this moment.

A tree bends low, shivering in the transparent wind.

Thirty five to forty five mile an hour wind, I recall the nearly mechanical weatherman saying.

A branch snaps, brittle brutality.

Yes, two thousand twelve not only wants to change me but wants to break me.

The house is only fifteen feet from where I stand and warm light spills through the front door across my feet.

Just fifteen feet and I’ll clap and yell and the new year will be here, and I won’t wonder about the purpose of it all. I’ll just forget it all, I tell myself.

Later, after my shower, I glance at the clock.

12:49 A.M.

After I close my Bible.

1:05 A.M.

And I lay awake.

1:47 A.M.

2:15 A.M.

Eyes wide, questions circling.

2:50 A.M.

The purpose?

Shortly after I hear the clock in the living room chime three o’clock, I turn on the bedside lamp and flip pages and it stands there, the answer:

“But from that Garden beginning, God has had a different purpose for us. His intent, since He bent low and breathed His life into the dust of our lungs, since He kissed us into being, has never been to slyly orchestrate our ruin. And yet, I have found it: He does have surprising, secret purposes. I open a Bible, and His plans, startling, lie there barefaced. It’s hard to believe it, when I read it, and I have to come back to it many times, feel long across those words, make sure they are real. His love letter forever silences any doubts: “His secret purpose framed from the very beginning [is] to bring us to our full glory.” (1 Corinthians 2:7 NEB). – Ann Voskamp, from One Thousand Gifts

So I commit to 2012.

My word of the year.

Purpose.

I commit to finding little pieces of that purpose… that wild, marvelous plan He created for me when He bent low from the heavens and breathed life into my soul. I commit to living that purpose, that fullest glory He has planned for me, arms spread wide in delight to all the blessings He gives.  I commit to being willing to follow where His purpose leads, whether that be reaching out to the world with a smile or writing words of encouragement for others or just sitting silent, basking in the warmth of His love.

I commit to His purpose. 

Photos Graciously Offered by Kelly Sauer