When I was 20 and preparing for my (first) marriage, my mom urged me to rethink what she felt was a rash decision. She wasn’t against my first husband (that was my dad’s argument) but that I was quitting school. Of course, I threw logic back at her, “But that’s what you did.” What was good for her was good enough for me. Her response? “Marriage and a family will never be enough for you. You were made for something bigger.” This was the same mom who believed I’d be a writer before I did, who told me I could do anything I put my mind to, who loved me unconditionally. She wanted me to have choices, and quitting school limited them.
My mom may not have worded it this way, but she was telling me I needed a greater purpose in my life. Don’t get me wrong, there is no greater purpose than raising your children—no job is harder or more rewarding. And although that’s what my main focus was for years, it’s only by the grace of God that my two children grew up to be the wonderful individuals they are today, because I was nowhere near perfect. But there came a time they no longer needed me hovering over their every move. And when they reached that point, I searched for significance in doing something I was good at—cleaning other people’s homes. I was self-employed, the money was decent and I could schedule my own hours. I was even able to have my kids with me during their school break. But it wasn’t enough. There was something missing. I wasn’t making a difference. It wasn’t fulfilling that purpose my mom predicted I’d need in my life.
Since I was twelve, I’ve been writing my “little” stories. That’s what I truly wanted to do. 
But I didn’t have the confidence, nor the support, to follow that desire which I now know God put on my heart. I hadn’t surrendered my life to Him yet, and even if I had, I didn’t know that when God gives you a calling, He’s not concerned about financial success. Ask any pastor. I wasn’t seeking Him to know how my time was best spent. But I believe He made a way for me while still molding my character to be the writer He wanted me to be. Not only did He give me the desire to be a writer, but He also blessed me with the heart of a teacher.
That’s what drove me to go back to school. That’s what motivated me to drive ninety minutes each way two nights a week and every other Saturday for 2 1/2 years. And when I graduated with honors, my mom couldn’t have been prouder. But more than that, when I stepped into the classroom (terrified I’d be eaten alive by the roomful of middle school students) I felt I was making a difference. I had a purpose beyond myself.
This life is not meant to be lived for one’s self, but for service. Jesus, the King of the world, did not come to be served, but to serve. And we’re to be like Him. A job you love may be two-fold, as was teaching (and writing is) for me. For my husband, being a chiropractor was that, as well. He was made to serve people—seriously, that’s one of his greatest gifts.
We have friends who have jobs they truly don’t enjoy and struggle to find purpose in them. If this describes you, pray. Ask God to show you what His purpose is for you in this season. Maybe it’s as simple as supporting your family, an opportunity to witness and/or character growth. Maybe you’re at a juncture where you need to decide which direction to take. Again, I urge you to pray. God has a plan—a purpose—for you. It may require some hard stuff in preparation for something bigger. We all know character growth is never easy. But it’s worth it in the end when you see your life is filled with a true sense of God-honoring purpose.
Comments 1
As usual you give me thoughts to ponder. I also think what I miss most about Mom was her unconditional love and gentle prodding to be our best. Thank you.