Several years ago there was a popular craze among Christians… the 40 Days of Purpose craze. This popular craze ran its course, like so many other Christian crazes tend to do until another idea is targeted to promote Christ-likeness.

The one thing that impacted me more than anything was really allowing to sink down deep the truth that my greatest purpose in life is to worship God. I have to admit that since I have let that truth sink deep, I have struggled with what that actually looks like 24/7.

Until one day.

Having Parkinson’s at the age of 46 can sometimes leave me feeling extremely purposeless at times. Feeling as if I don’t have much to contribute any more. When I am in a good frame of mind, I know that there is much I can contribute to life, but my mind isn’t always in such good a frame and I struggle with how one worships when they feel lost, discouraged, frustrated, displaced and even… alone.

Last week I was physically struggling with the regular, mundane chores of life. You know, the doing-dishes-folding clothes-sweeping chores and on and on the list meanders silently down the page, waiting patiently to be crossed off once again. This is the kind of physical struggle that no matter what you say silently or aloud to your ten fingers, they won’t obey. I say, “Type faster,” and, they don’t. Do they hear me? Yes. Do they obey? No. “Scratch my back,” I say and they can’t. “Tie my shoes,” I plead.

Nope.

Ain’t gonna happen.

Today we’re wearing slip-ons.

Sometimes I’m finding I have to ask family members to tie bows and knots in my shoes, zip zippers, button buttons, put on or take off a coat. Those are met during my off times. Times when my mind says go and my muscles say no.

Off times can have a tendency to make me feel lonely and discouraged, as if I actually have lost my purpose in life. Life as I once knew it, isn’t quite the same any more.

Somewhere in the change,

during the change,

because of the change,

I feel my purpose changed as well.

If it is true that I was made to worship God, my first realization – it’s a 24/7 activity. God doesn’t shut off now and then, but exists and is available at all times. At work, at school, at home, in the sunshine, in the storms, in the garden, at the dump. Worshipping God 24/7 and what that looks like for me became my quest. I wanted to know intimately this purpose for my life – that of worshiping a holy God. Every other purpose that once seemed real or important has, one by one, slowly faded to a lesser priority or disappeared altogether.

I began with the fact that

I am a mother.

Mothering duties seem to lessen as I scan an empty nest, its gaping empty spaces filled occasionally – only temporarily. Feathered friends flitter about, with no playmates to be found. I am a mother of three whose primary purpose for 32 years seemed to be that of training up my children in the best way I knew how to point them – direct them – in the path they were bent towards. Now, I am left sitting on a sharp twig in a pokey nest where there are weightless feathers tucked amongst the twigs where my three little chicks once squawked for dinner. I have asked myself, “How do I worship at a time like this, as I sit here watching my children fly away, needing me no more?”

I am a wife.

I know as well as my husband does that I all too often fail in that primary, earthly role, easily distracted with lesser things in life, indirectly and unintentionally putting him second. The role of wife is an extremely important role – jammed full of purpose – and yet somehow, I all too often convince myself that I have fallen short. And so, as a wife, I find myself asking, “How do I worship when I feel I fail so often at who I perceive I am to be as a his wife?”

I am a daughter.

Instead of me being able to run to and fro – doing things for my parents, doing things for his parents – time and distance play much too large a factor in journeying away from home so easily. I learn that our parents are trying to figure out how they might be able to help take care of me in the years to come because of my physical changes. Instead of me thinking about the opportunities to care of them, they think of ways to care for me. This daughter asks, “How do you worship when you feel like you may not be able to do that which you actually looked forward to – giving back a little of what was given to you?”

I am a friend.

In the roles of friendship, I find myself forgetting the things I long to remember. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Prayer requests. Names. My head is filled with too much and remembers too little. I ask, “How do I worship when friends feel I don’t care because I forgot to return a phone call or send an overdue letter or reply in some fashion or form? When they think something’s wrong because the muscles in my face have ceased to obey my brain when it says to smile and a frown is what they witness plastered there instead?”

Fairly good questions. In the asking, however, I notice there is much feeling occurring. In that realization, God shows me the need to live by truth and not feelings that so easily deceive.

Truth One.

I am good a mother. Never perfect, but fairly decent.

My little chickadees may be flying away but every once in a while they turn around and say, “Remember when you taught my how to do this?” then they take a fancy dive, pulling up out of a crash landing just in time and…

it’s beautiful.

Every once in a while, they fly back and sit a while with me in a familiar nest and I like that. It makes the next departure a bit easier. It makes the gap that is left not so gaping.

Then there’s

Truth One, Part Two.

I will never sit on that branch alone. I will never be in that nest alone.

It might seem high from ground view. My wings may be tired and the wind may blow. I may, at times, feel I am being blown away, but there is One who covers me with his wing and it is there under His protection I will hide and find shelter.

Truth Two.

I am a good wife. I could do better. I could do as my husband says and not cook on high so often. I could leave the dishes and sit and talk to him a while. I could quit expecting so much of myself and realize that sometimes it’s okay to just be… me.

Truth Three.

I am a daughter and I am still alive. This disease has become a part of my life, but it will not claim it. I refuse to sit in a chair the rest of my life and eat bon bons ‘til I die.

(See’s Bordeaux’s maybe.)

It is still my desire that if God is willing, I will be there to take care of our parents and give back whatever I can for what they have given and done for me.

Truth Four.

I am the best friend I know how to be.

I am the best friend that I am able to be.

Most of the time.

I could do better.

When I remember I need to call back, I need to just do it right then or… I will forget once more, leaving friends to feel neglected. When I remember a friends’ birthday is near, I need to get that card out then or… well, you know. The truth is, I need to not put off until tomorrow what can be done today for the fact is, I’ll plain forget.

Truth Five.

The smile’s there (even if it can only be seen on the inside) because joy is there. My ability to still smile on the inside is due to my life purpose of being made to worship God.

There is a song by the group Watermark called ‘Knees to the Earth’. This was playing the other day as I approached a red light. As I was slowing to a stop, there ahead of me was a beautiful mountain, presently catching the first snow fall of the season. As the soft, delicate, frozen flakes fell, each finding their own place to land, the picture being created before me quickly became a most beautiful portrait. I captured it in the photo frames of my mind.

As I waited speechless at the light, the view was breathtaking and took my thoughts of purposelessness away as I listened to the words of that song playing in the background…

Beautiful Jesus, how may I bless Your heart?

Knees to the earth, I bow down to everything You are

Beautiful Jesus,You are my only worth

So I will embrace You always, as I walk this earth

Be blessed, be loved, be lifted high

Be treasured here, be glorified

I owe my life to You oh Lord

Here I am

What He’s done, Who He is – this is cause for heartfelt worship.

Holding tight. Not letting go. Through the joys, through the pain of this earthly life. When I feel alone, discouraged, displaced – it is He that I will hold on to and it is me that He will not let go.

Be blessed oh Lord, be loved, be lifted high

Be treasured here, be glorified

I owe my life to You oh Lord

Here I am

My knees fall to the earth

Without Him I am nothing. I am no one, wandering aimlessly without purpose. Not as a mother, nor a wife, nor a daughter, nor a friend. It is He I will bow before and find my worth. It is He who is deserving of my worship.

It is on my knees that I find purpose.

From my heart,

Sherri