You care about something. I know you do. Something more than what you had for breakfast, or the car you drove to work. Even more than a job that pays the bills, or the people you pass in the halls each day. There’s something, something else, something deeper inside that is calling.
Late at night, when you can’t sleep, when the walls become a blank canvas, what picture do you see? Or better yet, what one do you paint? When there are no boundaries, no fences, no limits, what do you do? When you’re lying there awake in the black recesses of night…
What do you dream?
I know it’s bigger. It is. Bigger than bills, and braces, and car repairs and old couches, it’s bigger. It’s more. More than that summer vacation you’re planning, or the Cheerios on your kitchen floor. There is something, something bigger inside of you, inside your heart. It’s there.
Oh, you can pretend you don’t hear me. Or it. You can continue on your merry little way whistling your little tune. No one will stop you. Nothing will happen. No major catastrophes will occur if you ignore that something. Maybe. Or maybe not. I don’t know what that something is for you, so I really can’t say.
All that is required for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.
There is plenty of nothing to be done. PLENTY. And without a doubt, plenty of people to do it. Plenty doing it right now, and plenty to keep on doing it. Plenty to keep on spending and wasting, keeping up with the Jones. Plenty to keep plastering materialism over a hole that can’t be filled. Plenty—literally billions—of people who will ignore that something, that ONE THING, that still small voice whispering to their soul.
Because here’s the deal: you can. No one will fault you. If you just keep plugging away, being good, taking care of your own, no one would blame you. After all, you have a mortgage to pay, mouths to feed, a house to decorate (better head to Target!) Those are decent things, respectable pursuits. But are they enough? Are they enough to squelch the voice? The voice of your soul crying out for that something, that better thing, that…more. Only you can say.
I don’t know what your one thing is. And, if you don’t find out, the world may never know. That still small voice may, eventually, be quieted. You might be able, one day, to shove enough stuff over it, around it, under it, through it, and in it, to make it stop. I’m sure it happens all the time. That vast hole in our hearts is pretty large though, and it’s there for a reason.
Don’t you ever wonder what that is…?
In case you do, I’ll tell you. It’s no secret. And the fact that I know is no indicator of genius in me.
It’s purpose. YOUR purpose. MY purpose. That’s the sound. That thing that keeps you awake. The itch, that nagging ache, that thing that won’t go away no matter how hard you try; it’s purpose. And I can tell you one thing, if you stop ignoring it, it will get bigger. That’s right, it will grow. All it takes is a tiny kindling. Fan it just a tad, just a hair, and it will blaze. Pretty soon, before you know, it will set your heart to flame!
And when that blaze is good and fueled, it will spread…like wildfire.
Because that’s why we were made. That’s why you’re here. Yep. Despite what you’ve been told, or whats been so subliminally weaved into your psyche, you are not here to acquire more crap. That’s not it. God did not set you on this planet, in this season, with your gifts and talents and desire, with your past and present and people, with all the things that so uniquely make you YOU, He did not randomly do that so you could waste it all. There is a plan. He has a plan. And guess what, you are part of it.
I know, I know. That’s a lot of pressure. It is. I feel it too. But here’s the deal, once you start listening to that voice—the voice in your soul—and stop listening to the world, the blaring, blasting, poisonous, penetrating scream of the world, when you stop listening to that, you’ll hear something else. Something better. Something real. You’ll hear…
And the truth is this; You are art. ART! You were created with a destiny and purpose all your own. There is no one–NO ONE–like you. And your destiny is unique, planned by God, painted by Him, purposed for a bigger truth, an eternal truth. And time is short. So you need to move.
The clock is ticking, the calendar is fading. And you are aging. How many more birthdays have to pass before you get this? You only get so many on this side of the grave. And that’s the truth. No one is promised any set amount of days, purpose or no. And the Spirit? He is a gentleman. He will not force you, or beg you, or coerce you. He simply calls. He built you into this house; walls that won’t be shaken, foundation for you to stand on, a covering over your head. What more do you want???
Stop being afraid! There is no time for fear. Oh, you can feel that fear, that’s human. But you can’t let it control you. It can’t stop you. It can’t douse this fire that’s started, this flame about to take over the world. You’ve got to light the match and throw on more logs, many more logs.
Burn baby, burn.
Set the world on fire.
Now, while you still can.
I’m waking up to my purpose. And some of it looks like this:
And I can’t wait to tell you more.
What are you doing…on purpose?