God is purpose

Sometimes I think we spend so much of our lives trying to discover our purpose that we forget something much more fundamental:

Our purpose begins with God, and ultimately, our purpose is to live according to His will.

We ask ourselves so many questions:

Why am I here? What am I supposed to do? Where is God leading me? What is my calling? What does He want from my life?

I have asked those questions myself more times than I can count. And the older I become, the more I realize that perhaps I have been looking at purpose from the wrong direction.

Maybe the question is not first, “What does God want me to accomplish?”

Maybe it is,

“Who does God want me to become?”

Because before God ever asks me to accomplish something for Him, He is asking me to belong to Him.

Before there is a mission, there is a relationship.

Before there is a calling, there is a surrender.

Before there is something for me to do, there is Someone I am being called to follow.

Everything begins with Him.

God spoke, and creation came into being. His Word went forth, and what did not exist suddenly existed. The heavens, the earth, the stars, the oceans, every living thing all of it exists because God willed it into existence.

And then there is me.

And there is you.

Each of us was called into existence by that same God.

That is something I have to stop and contemplate because it changes everything.

I am not an accident. I am not an afterthought. I am not simply a product of circumstances. I was willed by God.

He knew me before I knew myself.

He loved me before I could love Him.

And somehow, within that mystery, He has given my life a purpose. But I think where I struggle is that I often want God to reveal His purpose to me without first surrendering my own. I want to know the destination before I am willing to take the next step. I want clarity before obedience. I want an explanation before trust.

And sometimes I even find myself praying as though God’s will is something I need Him to explain to me so that I can decide whether I agree with it.

That sounds strange when I say it out loud, but if I am honest, I think I have done exactly that.

I have gone before God in prayer asking Him to bless my plans, when what He really wants is for me to place my plans at His feet.

There is a subtle difference.

I can say, “Lord, I surrender this to You,” while still secretly hoping that surrender means He will give me what I wanted in the first place.

And God, in His mercy, keeps showing me the difference between surrendering my will to Him and asking Him to surrender His will to mine.

That is where purpose becomes difficult.

Because God’s will is not always going to look like what I imagined my life would look like.

Sometimes His will takes me through places I would never have chosen.

Sometimes He closes a door I desperately wanted opened.

Sometimes He allows me to remain in a situation I have been begging Him to change.

Sometimes I ask, “Lord, why are You allowing this?”

And perhaps He is quietly asking me,

“Will you still trust Me if I don’t explain it?”

That question is much harder.

Because faith is easy when God gives us what we want. Trust becomes real when He doesn’t.

I think about this often in my own prayer.

There is still a little boy inside me who wants his Father to say yes. I remember asking my own father for things when I was young. Sometimes I wanted something so badly that I could not understand why he would say no.

At the time, I only saw what I wanted.

He saw what I could not.

His “no” was not rejection. It was fatherhood.

He was not trying to take something good away from me. He was trying to protect me, guide me, and teach me even when I did not understand it.

And sometimes I think that little boy still walks into the presence of God with me.

I kneel down. I begin with humility. I tell God that I trust Him.

But somewhere beneath the prayer, that little voice is still there:

“Yes, Father, but please let Your will be what I want.”

And God is patient with me.

He does not shame me for it.

He teaches me.

He slowly reveals that His will is not something imposed upon me by a distant God who simply wants control over my life.

His will comes from the heart of a Father who knows me completely.

He sees what I cannot see.

He knows what I cannot know.

He sees the consequences of the choices I want to make.

He knows the person I am capable of becoming.

And He knows that sometimes the very thing I am asking Him for would keep me from becoming the person He created me to be.

That is why surrender is so deeply connected to purpose.

Because I cannot fully live God’s purpose for my life while continually insisting on my own.

At some point, I have to let go.

Not because my desires don’t matter. They do.

God cares about them.

But I have to trust that His wisdom is greater than my understanding and His love is greater than my desires.

And that changes the way I pray.

Instead of always saying,

“Lord, give me this.”

I begin saying,

“Lord, show me what You want.”

Instead of,

“Lord, remove this.”

I begin asking,

“Lord, what are You teaching me through this?”

Instead of,

“Lord, open this door.”

I begin saying,

“Lord, if this door is not Yours, give me the grace to let it remain closed.”

And perhaps the hardest prayer of all:

“Lord, even if You do not change my circumstances, change me.”

Because maybe that is where I have misunderstood purpose.

I have often thought purpose meant finding the right career, accomplishing something important, helping enough people, building something meaningful, or leaving some kind of mark behind.

Those things can certainly have meaning.

But what if my deepest purpose is much simpler?

To become the person God created me to be.

To love Him.

To know Him.

To serve Him.

To love the people He has placed in my life.

To remain faithful when nobody is watching.

To carry the crosses He permits without allowing them to take away my trust.

To receive the blessings He gives without forgetting the Giver.

To fall and return.

To fail and begin again.

To keep saying yes.

Maybe God’s purpose for me is not always found in some extraordinary thing I accomplish.

Maybe it is found in the simple moments where I choose His will over mine.

In the moment when I forgive instead of holding onto resentment.

When I remain silent instead of defending myself.

When I pray instead of giving into fear.

When I serve without recognition.

When I accept that I cannot control everything.

When I allow God to close a door I desperately wanted open.

When I say, “Father, I don’t understand this, but I trust You.”

That, too, is purpose.

Because God’s will is not simply about where He is taking me.

God’s will is about who I am becoming as I walk with Him.

And maybe that is why prayer is so important.

Prayer is where my will and God’s will meet.

It is where I bring Him my plans, my fears, my disappointments, my hopes, my desires, and slowly learn to place them into His hands.

Prayer teaches me that God is not merely someone I go to when I need something.

He is the One for whom I was created.

And perhaps that is why nothing else ever completely satisfies.

I can accomplish something and still feel empty.

I can receive something I desperately wanted and still want more. I can open one door after another and still find myself searching. Because the heart was never created merely for accomplishments. It was created for God.

So perhaps purpose is not ultimately about finding something God wants me to do.

Perhaps purpose is about allowing God to have; all of me.

My plans.

My future.

My family.

My work.

My disappointments.

My dreams.

My fears.

Even the things I am not ready to surrender.

Especially those. And this is where I find myself again and again before Him. I come to Him wanting answers, and He gives me Himself.

I come asking for a map, and He gives me enough light for the next step. I come asking for certainty, and He asks for trust. I come asking Him to change my circumstances, and sometimes He begins by changing my heart. And somehow, in that surrender, I begin to understand. The purpose of my life is not to get God to fit into my plans. It is to allow my life to fit into His. That does not mean I stop dreaming.

It does not mean I stop asking. It does not mean I stop hoping for miracles. I still ask. I still knock.

I still pray for healing, provision, open doors, and grace. But I am learning to add one sentence to every prayer:

“Father, if what I am asking for is not Your will, give me the grace to want what You want more than I want what I want.”

That is a dangerous prayer. Because God may actually answer it. And when He does, He begins to free me from the exhausting need to control my own life. He becomes my manna. Not necessarily giving me everything I want for tomorrow, but giving me enough grace for today.

Enough strength for this moment. Enough light for the next step. Enough mercy to begin again.

And perhaps that is what it means to discover purpose. Not finally having every answer.

Not knowing exactly where the road leads.

But knowing whose hand I am holding while I walk it. Because if my life truly belongs to God, then wherever His will leads me, that is where my purpose is. And wherever He asks me to remain faithful, that is where my purpose is.

Even when I understand nothing. Even when I am afraid. Even when the answer is no. Even when the door remains closed. Even when the cross is heavier than I thought I could carry.

I can still say:

Father, I trust You.

Your will be done.

Not because I understand.

Not because I know what tomorrow holds.

But because I finally understand that my purpose was never to control the outcome. My purpose is to belong to God. And if I can learn to live that way, one day, one prayer, one surrender at a time, then perhaps I will discover that God’s will was never taking me away from the purpose of my life.

His will is the purpose.

God bless you always.