I was thinking the other day, which is not a uncommon occurence in my daily routine (contrary to popular belief). I thought, “If I could choose anything in the world to be, what would I choose?”
What fulfills me to the point that I can’t not do that thing? What’s the purpose for my life, the unique design that I, and I alone, can fulfill and be fulfilled by?
Have you ever wondered that? Have you ever thought – Okay. Yeah, this life is great. Fun. Whoopie. But…is this it? Is this all?
“Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it — tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest — if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself — you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say “Here at last is the thing I was made for.” ~ C. S. Lewis
Why do we constantly moan that life has no purpose? I venture to say that perhaps we were born with a specific purpose in mind…maybe we’re just not fulfilling it.
Why is it, that no matter how hard I try, I can never quite convince myself that I am completely satisfied with this world? I’ve lived here all my life – it’s all I know.
“You say the materialist universe is ‘ugly.’ I wonder how you discovered that! If you are really a product of a materialistic universe, how is it you don’t feel
at home there? Do fish complain of the sea for being wet? Or if they did, would that fact itself not strongly suggest that they had not always, or wd. not
always be, purely aquatic creatures? Notice how we are perpetually
surprised at Time. (`How time flies! Fancy John being grown-up and
married! I can hardly believe it!’) In heaven’s name, why? Unless, indeed, there is something about us that is not temporal.” ~ C. S. Lewis
Isn’t this so true? Are we not all born desiring something, something more than we have? We moan about the the swift passing of time – but why? We were born into a world run by time; time dictates our every move. Should we not then be used to it? Unless…
We were made for a world is timeless. “…that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.”
I don’t know about you, but I am truly looking forward to that day. Finally, enough time.
What are your thoughts? I am honestly open to – in fact, welcome – discussion. 🙂