I search so desolately for purpose and forget Amazing Grace is the only purpose. I want something tangible, something that makes me feel like I am earning, doing, reaching, achieving. But grace is the opposite of all that. A gift. Purpose without toil, love without reason, grace.
God in me. What a mucky residence, filthy with caverns of doubt and a ceaseless lapse of virtue. Dark potholes, not one beam of light. Except for the guest who should demand so much more – a key card, an extra towel. The guest who should have left long ago if he thought his accommodations would be grubby forever.
Purpose is laying aside purpose, adopting His purpose, spending time for Him, not wasting time in you, for you, you, you, you. A million things to do and not one that brings glory to the God who lives. Purpose is laying down purpose, purpose is forgetting you want one.