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.
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.