Lately I've been wondering about my life's purpose. I haven't been having much luck at school, especially since I've had nine students drop out this year, all juniors. I have nine students who rarely if ever show to class, and all are failing. My AP students don't seem to put effort into the work required, and their work is frustrating to grade. It just seems like I'm spinning my wheels, and my time and effort would do better elsewhere.
I headed into the weekend with these thoughts. I was mopey and weepy Friday and Saturday, not much company at all. As my pity party grew, I began wondering about other aspects of my life. Am I a good mother and wife? A good daughter? A good godmother? Do I make a difference to anyone?
And then we went to church. I seldom remember homilies, but yesterday, the priest said something that made all the difference to me. He said that our life has meaning and we will live forever. I felt as though God was speaking directly to me. My life does have meaning! I do have eternal life.
I walked out of church renewed, spiritually and emotionally. My life has meaning and purpose. My heart lifted, and I felt as though I could face anything with equanimity. Good thing too, because my son hit a parked car and fell off his new bike. Thankfully, he was wearing a helmet, something we've always lectured him to do. The new bike and the car were okay as well. My son, however, was another story.
He kept moaning in pain (and yes, I know he's a bit of a dramatic), and I began to truly worry. Within 40 minutes of the accident, I decided to take him to the ER to make sure all his parts were okay. Quickly, my life had meaning and purpose because he needed me. It always amazes me how quickly life can change.
The bike helmet saved him from a concussion. His parts are sore and bruised but okay. My child needed me, and I was there. My life has meaning and purpose. I have eternal life.
