State Your Purpose, Please

Many years ago when we lived in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we decided to cross the border and spend an evening in Canada. At that time you didn't need a passport to cross over, but we were advised that the border patrol on the Canadian side could be a bit--disagreeable.  One of the questions they asked was your purpose in crossing over into Canada.

It seems that, if we just said we wanted to drive around, we were much more likely to be held up crossing the border. The satisfactory answer was to state a specific place that you were going. Have a destination in mind. A purpose in crossing. So we chose a pizza restaurant we had heard about in Sault Saint Marie, and decided to go there.

Sure enough, when we got to the border they asked us where we were going. We named the restaurant, and they let us right through. It was so much easier because we had a purpose in mind.

I think many people struggle in life because they're not sure what their purpose is. Have you ever heard someone ask "Why are we here?"

It's no small wonder, then, that so many people are unhappy. How can you be happy when you don't know what your purpose is?

You might say you have a goal. Perhaps you want to be a doctor. Or a teacher. That's a goal, isn't it? And yet, maybe you're still unhappy. That's because your vocation, no matter how worthy, is not a purpose. It's a goal. You can achieve your goals and still not fulfill your purpose in life.

Did you know that we all have the same purpose? By that I mean we were all created for the same reason. And if you want to know what our purpose is, then you need to check with the Creator. He tells us in His Word what His purpose was in creating us. He tells us in Revelation 4:11--

Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.


We were created for God's pleasure. And the bottom line is, if we're not bringing pleasure to Him, we're not fulfilling our purpose. I think many of us, instead of bringing Him pleasure, end up causing God grief and pain. We make selfish choices, or live our lives without trying to follow God's leading. We take no thought of bringing pleasure to the One Who created us in the first place.

So if you're feeling dissatisfied, if you're just not happy with things the way they are, if you feel like you're missing something, step back and take note of your purpose. Are you bringing pleasure to the Creator? Or are you causing Him grief and pain?

How are you fulfilling your purpose?

Snake!

I'm not sure that I ever mentioned that I have an extreme aversion to snakes. But then again, why would anyone like snakes? I know that some are supposed to be "good" snakes, but I think it's true that the only good snake is a dead one!

So when we surrendered to go to Uganda, snakes was one of the fears I had to face. (Actually I had hundreds of fears, but we'll stick with this one for now.) Uganda is home to the black mamba and the green mamba, reputedly two of the deadliest snakes known to man. Of course you can also find your common every day cobra there too.

Knowing the species available, I really struggled with moving to Uganda. When we got there, we moved into a house surrounded by a cement block wall. We had several dogs, and they were turned lose in the compound at night in order to guard the property. One night, about two months after we arrived, the dogs set up a furious howling during the night. They wouldn't shut up, so Terry went out to see what had stirred them up. A few moments later I heard him yelling through the window, "Jill, get the shotgun! Jill!"

We were holding a shotgun for one of the other missionaries that was out of the country. I grabbed the gun and ran it out to my husband who promptly used it to blow the head off of a cobra that was in the yard. Even after the head was gone, the snake still stretched over six and a half feet.

I spent the next several days fighting the urge to cower in the closet. My husband, typical of most missionaries, put the story in our next prayer letter.

Approximately four weeks later, one of my children encountered a much smaller snake on our back patio. Matt, eleven at the time, jumped out the back door and right over the snake. One of the men killed it promptly, but I still gathered all the children into our living room and considered staying there for the next three years until we went on furlough. I just didn't see how we were going to be able to live in a place where such dangers lurked. Matt was my oldest, and I had five more after him, the youngest being less than six months old. How could we possibly keep them all safe?

That afternoon in the mail we got over a dozen letters from our Sunday School class in our home church in Alabama. They had all read our latest prayer letter (the one about killing the cobra). Each letter mentioned that they were praying for us and for our safety from snakes. I still find it amazing that the day I needed reassurance that God was protecting us, He sent over a dozen letters reminding me that we had people praying for us.

Isn't God good?

Standing and Kneeling

I may have mentioned before on this blog that I am not the most graceful person on the planet. You know that awkward, klutzy stage that teenagers hit around fourteen? Well, I hit it at twelve, and I'm still waiting to grow out of it. And today's memory is just one of many times that I proved my lack of physical grace ...

Some years ago we were members of a church in Alabama that, at the time, was running well over 300 on Sundays. They had a choir of about fifty, and the choir sang specials both for the Sunday morning and the Sunday night services. On Sunday mornings we would file in from the rooms on the side of the platform, but we were a little more informal on Sunday nights.

About five minutes before the service started, choir members started trickling up into the choir loft from the auditorium. They would just come up on the platform and quietly take their seats. Then when the service was supposed to start, the pianist would finish the prelude and play the introduction to an "opener", a short song or chorus that the choir sang to open the service.

I was running late, as usual, (some things never change!), but I was headed up to the choir loft when someone in the first pew stopped me to ask me a question. Suddenly I realized the pianist was playing the introduction to the opener. I was right there at the front of the church, so I could easily hurry up the platform steps and slip into my place in the choir in time to start singing.

On the second step into the loft, I tripped. I tried to regain my balance, but to my horror I actually ended up falling to my knees on the step, and my momentum even made me fall forward and I had to catch myself with hands. As the intro ended and the choir was supposed to start singing, there I was on my knees on the stairs with my rear end in the air, waving at the congregation.

I bounced back up quickly, but the damage was done. The choir completely lost it. They tried to sing, but most of them were too busy laughing. The music director laughed so hard he actually had tears rolling down his face.

Yesterday morning, I was talking to a visitor near the front of the auditorium when I realized our choir was moving into position. I turned and hurried up the stairs to slip into my place. "Whew!" I murmured quietly to the lady next to me. "Last time I tried that I ended up flat on my face with my rear end in the air."

And once again I was in the middle of a choir that was laughing so hard they had trouble singing. Who knew voices could carry that way?