I’ve been asking God why on
earth I’m here. In the huge mass of uncounted and unaccountable created beings,
why me?
God is eternal love, a
constant presence, creative mind, everyone’s father and mother, giver of all
life.
So why, one March day in
1925, did God give me life and turn me loose?
God is the great healer, and
still God allows fevers, fractures, wounds and burns to challenge medical scientists.
God is the great provider, yet there’s hunger, homelessness and wretched
poverty. Maybe it has something to do with God’s vocation as eternal mentor and
teacher, patiently waiting for s learners to appreciate God’s texting. The
password is Christ.
Now, after more than 32,000
days of this life I ask God why all the fuss? I think of the endless hours
people have given me. Mom and dad were there, clergy and relatives, friends and
school teachers, employers and co-workers, doctors and dentists, they and teams
of others were there.
Why?
God, who doesn’t need a
wristwatch or even a calendar in the realm of timelessness, let me wait a long
time before answering my question. God has given me almost 33,000 days so far,
and let me discover that the most important one of all is always today.
Now I know I was not created
for spiritual or intellectual triumphs, but with biological intent. Having
abandoned the rib method, God used me as a factor in the birth of three
remarkable children and six grandchildren, also remarkable. God needs each one
of them, and that’s why they’re special. And they gave, with their spouses,
whatever meaning there is to my years.
There’s a different and equally
satisfying experience for those who are not parents, by choice or not by
choice. Not everyone becomes a parent, but everybody starts out as a child, and
according to words millions revere, each one is a child of God.
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