PRIVILEDGED PURPOSE
/For over a decade, I have begged God for PURPOSE—purpose in ALL CAPS. You know, the kind of PURPOSE that challenges the core of who you are. (Been there!) PURPOSE that calls you back to the deep because that is where you are now most comfortable. After living through a horrific car crash, this is the kind of PURPOSE I need. It’s difficult to just exist, and I get restless and depressed when I do. When God uses me for His PURPOSE, it is bewildering what one can stand when He makes you able. 2 Timothy 2:20-21 says it this way, “In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for special purposes and some for common use. Those who cleanse themselves from the latter will be instruments for special purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.” I do not understand the fullness of this passage, but I do want to be the epitome of it. I want to be used for special purposes and bring Him glory, but not just glory...GLORY. A simple word picture: we Cajuns aren’t satisfied with a little pot of gumbo; we make a BIG pot of gumbo that could feed multiple families! ALL CAPS GLORY!
I love lowercase purpose and daily assignments. I acknowledge the importance of lowercase purpose of getting out of bed every day (a real task for me) and being salt to my world and a light in the darkness—even if it is my own. Lowercase purpose is essential as a Christ-follower and should be pursued daily. Ephesians 2:10 says it clearly, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” PURPOSE and purpose go hand-in-hand. Both are obedience to God which pleases Him.
July 29th marks one year since I’ve seen my dad or kissed his face. We miss him terribly. We never expected when he was diagnosed with cancer, right at the outbreak of the Covid pandemic, that he would die from it. We were never, and how could we be, prepared for the horrors of his suffering. His battle with cancer has impacted us forever. We will never be the same. While others were cursing the Covid lockdown, I was embracing it because it (and Leo) allowed me to be with my dad and mom and sisters in south Louisiana. From a curse came a blessing!
I cannot speak of the horrors my dad went through—that we went through as a family—but I was aware then that God called me to the deep. A deep I never experienced or felt qualified for. This was PURPOSE and I would do anything to serve my dad and mom. I would and did! PURPOSE that called me to LOVE in the truest sense of the word; to love and serve in ways I did not know I was capable.
This PURPOSE came at a great price! I am still trying to figure how to do life without my dad. He was my go-to for my Meagan-trauma pitfalls. I put so much on my dad since the crash, but he never buckled. He got choked up often, but he was faithful regardless of what I hit him with or how deep I took him. He talked me from the ledge many times and gave me spiritual spankings often. He was my dad.
This PURPOSE of serving my dad was painful privilege. I understand a little of how Mother Teresa walked out her calling with such humility. Seeing someone “through” to the other side is a holy experience. It is priceless. It is love. And I am eternally privileged and humbled to have had my dad’s last hours. Those days, those hours play over and over in my mind. With Meagan in the crash, I begged God repeatedly to make her breathe. But He did not. In the last two days with my dad, I begged God, implored God, to take his breath and end his agony. In the early morning hours with the rise of the sun, God did! A holy moment of thankfulness and then losing myself in deep sorrow and numbness with my sisters and mother.
I never understood cancer though my grandmother and some dear friends battled it to their end. God heals some and takes others. Who understands this mystery? But it is not for us to know—He is sovereign and in control. Yet cancer is a beast. Cruel and unforgiving. It doesn’t play fair and has absolutely no compassion. To my friends and family who have traveled this dreadful road before me, please forgive me. I did not know.
With this one-year mark of my dad’s “going home,” I would like to remember him with a video from Meagan’s phone I’ve never shared with anyone but Leo, Aaron, and Melody. Backstory: a couple of months before the fatal crash, Meagan was stirred to make a spontaneous trip to Louisiana where she spent a week alone with her Grammar and Gramps. This is her recording and her voice featuring my hilarious and wonderful parents. (Mom, I hope you laugh.)
