As a Christian, my life’s purpose is to love, honor and serve God; obey His commands; and love others as He loves them.
As a husband and father, I need to love, nurture, and provide for my wife, children, and family.
As a worker, I need to give at least an hour’s work for an hour’s pay.
As a mere mortal slogging – not racing -- through the fast lane of 21st-century living, I need more details about exactly how to fulfill all my purposes.
My minister has talked with me, folks have given me books, and others are duly sympathetic and supportive about my finding my niche in this life on Earth.
Many others, especially my wife, think I simply think too much. She is probably more right than wrong, and if I were thinking more effectively over the years, perhaps I would have found my answers by now.
As I age, though, I am getting more hints at why I inhabit this planet beyond the obvious global and theological imperatives mentioned above.
I exist to empathize with others and provide as much solace as I am capable of providing, which is woefully never and not enough.
This conclusion has been thrust upon me simply due to my aging and infirmities. I probably spend as much time with doctors as a dog with a Grade A steak bone.
Do not fear. I will not chronicle my ailments. If I am still alive in my 90’s, perhaps I shall. You know the joke about what old people talk about – their aches and pains, and…, well, let us not discuss that here.
I am 58 years old and do not feel a day over 57.
But I have sinned. In 1990, when the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was enacted, I scoffed at it. In that law, Congress found that 43 million “Americans have one or more physical or mental disabilities, and this number is increasing as the population as a whole is growing older” [42 U.S.C. Section 12101 (a) (1)].
Hah!, I said. No way. One in six Americans – men, women, and children – not fully able-bodied. Impossible. Preposterous.
I was sure something was amiss. Everyday I was out and about in this wide world and I was not convinced that 17% of our population was hidden from view.
Well, God must have been listening, and the joke is on me.
As promised above, I will not bore you with the details, but from head to toe, and all lateral extremities in between, I have experienced some degree of disability, temporary or permanent.
I tell friends, acquaintances, and strangers – basically anyone within earshot – that I am either the sickest healthy guy they know or the healthiest sick one.
What I am trying to say is that I have got religion, so to speak, and realize that all of us endure some form of pain or disability (temporary or permanent) as we travel the tracks of this time continuum we call life. No one is immune. We all suffer, some quietly in isolation, others vocally with crotchety voices for all to hear. I probably fall into the latter category. [I suspect my wife would say there is no ‘probably’ about it.]
Seriously, I consider these sufferings a gift of sorts. It sounds strange to say, for sure, but as Saint Paul referred to the nondescript “thorn” with which he had to live, I, too, have had my experiences, which have made me more accepting and patient of others. Lord knows I needed this change in attitude. Not patient enough, mind you, but I am getting there.
No, I do not use the Apostle Paul to liken myself to him. Even I am not that presumptuous. But I mention him and his ailments to remind me – and perhaps others – that we all have various crosses to bear in this life, and the more we all recognize that and are prepared to assist our brethren along the way, the better it is for us and everyone else.
The better, also, for me to pursue my purpose in life.
What’s yours?
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Reader Responses
My purpose is to raise two Godly girls who love others and love their country, are self-sufficient, confident girls who are givers - not takers,
respect authority and leave every place better than the way they found it.
If I can do this, then I will be a happy gal!
-- T.M.
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I love what I learn from my husband.
For me, I try to seek and fulfill the words of our closing collect,”Lord, send us out to do the work you have given us to do”. I find ministry in caring for my mother, in my roles at home, in my work with my clients, and lately, as I am getting more open to the even wider call from Robin and Luke to offer to pray for others, I am finding random contacts sharing with me some of their struggles, and I am now equipped to say – may I pray for you?
Each of us has gifts – I enjoy your posts and your reflections – we are each called to use them in His service.
I find when I focus on that – God has a way of even using the difficulties, and the infirmities, to bring us into contact with those who need us. And what a blessing it is to do that with the support of the church, a church rooted in prayer and seeking His truth in all things at all times.
We are called to bear one another’s burdens, so if you get cranky and want to vent in this direction about carpal tunnel aches and pains or others, feel free. Or call, and we can pray together.
-- L.B.
Fred W. Apelquist, III, M.Ed.
Approximately 690 words.
© August 27, 2008
YETMO: “You’re Entitled To My Opinion,” A Balanced Point of View
"To stimulate thought, debate, and introspection”
My husband was talking with our daughter, saying how at her age(she’s 31) life is focused on goals and striving and doing. He told her however that the older he becomes the more he realizes the importance of his relationship with God, as the first priority, because it informs all of the other relationships.