I know that you read Purpose Driven Life several years ago because you’re totally not a Christian if you didn’t. Just kidding. But I think that popular Christianity (or at least Rick Warren’s PR team) made us believe that. Even if it didn’t grant salvation in the process, it did teach a highly valuable, intensely difficult lesson: It’s not about me.
That sounds so wonderful as I leaf through the pages, gaining encouragement that my life has such a grander, more glorious purpose than my comfortable bubble could ever offer. The God of the universe, the Creator, the Maker, Holy God wants to use my life for what He is accomplishing–to draw people to Him. Is that awesome or what?
Well, yes it is.Until the way He’s accomplishing those plans of His is so brash and discomforting in my life that I can hardly trudge through the day.
In the middle of my fear and worry over Annie’s days ahead, God is working in incredible ways. He is using Annie, His little unborn sweet girl, to draw people to Himself. 3lb 11oz Annie has a spiritual legacy already! What?!
We’ve seen loved ones recognize their need for a hope outside of themselves, a hope that is only found in Jesus. I’ve had the opportunity to answer acquaintances’ probing questions with ease, questions like, “Aren’t you worried that she won’t live? How can you be positive? How can you have hope?”
All I could think of was 1 Peter 3:15, “… always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.”
My only answer for hope is found in the cross. It’s found in the purpose that I see God weaving each day of Annie’s life. It’s found in life change that I see happening in others as this belly change happens in me.
But the truth is: having an eternal perspective is the hardest thing that I’ve ever faced. I know that I am created solely for His glory. I know that I am created for Him. But some days I’d rather it be about me and my comfort. I just want to know that Annie will be okay. I want to face the days ahead with confidence found in myself and in modern medicine, not needing to pray for healing. So I pray, “I believe.” And in the next breath, “Help my unbelief” (Mark 9:25).
I so want my life to be His and for His glory alone. I am thankful for how He’s sustaining me with hints of purpose along the way. I pray that the true cry of my heart says, “All of life comes down to just one thing: that’s to know You, oh Jesus, and to make You known.” If my circumstances are making Him known, then I’ll rest. And pray for healing of MY heart along the way.