I’m lying there on the couch, tears dripping from my eyes, unable to move. I’m paralyzed. There is an invisible weight crushing me, pressing down on me from every side. But I am not in pain. I feel nothing. There is no purpose coursing through my veins, nor is there a drive within each heartbeat. There is just a breath in, a breath out. Repeat. I am not in pain. I feel nothing.
I stare at the ceiling, and then look down at my feet. I talk to God and he talks back, but I know the problem is within me. There is a death grip on my motivation that is cutting off my circulation. I was made for good. I have a beautiful purpose. But I can’t get off the couch.
I ask God, why I am here? Why did he bother to place me on this earth? People will continue to eat, drink, sleep, and repeat regardless. I am merely a perturbation, a disturbance in their environment. I am an object that can serve either to interest or to bore. I can distract others or disappear from their notice. I am not the one powering the circle of life.
The pursuit of happiness has somehow morphed into the pursuit of money, but money is cold. It is a tool. It was not meant to be a target, but an arrow. Objects are lonely. No, I don’t care much for money. But I can’t live without it. I can’t provide for others without it. It is an object in our lives that has more power over us than the desire to stay with our loved ones, to pursue passions in our lives that don’t pay as much, or to be free. It is an endless chase powered by fear.
So I ask again, why am I here? Every decision I make seems to be centered on making money or entertaining myself. Both are fleeting and unsatisfying. I am exhausted. I could hardly get out of bed this morning. I should be thinking, “Oh God, what a sunrise!” Instead I think, “Oh God, another sunrise.”
This life, it is so circular. We are constantly moving and yet never going anywhere. We are afraid to leave our bubble, and so we resign ourselves to circles within the same tight spaces. It’s another day, another week, and another year. “Everyone else is getting married and having kids so I guess I better too.” Someday we look up and realize that we were only actually living about 10% of the time. The other 90% was spent floating aimlessly down the river of life with the company of our friends and family.
And that, I know, is wrong. I know better. I know that while I don’t belong here, I have a beautiful purpose. I was created to heal. Everyone looks, but not everyone sees. And that’s okay; they were created for another purpose. I was created to see brokenness in the human. How else can you know what to heal?
How can you see it? Too many people, when they look at someone, they see their physical appearance, their status, and their occupation. They only look at that person through their own eyes, tainting their observations with their own personal interests. How do they compare to me? Do I see them as a threat? Can this person be an asset? Am I about to gain a friend? How will this interaction affect my public image? Am I entertained or annoyed by this person? Everyone looks, but not everyone sees.
You must look deep into their eyes past your own perceptions and into the depths of their soul. So deeply that, in order to report your findings back to your brain, you must look back at yourself through their point of view. Then and only then are the mysteries of what makes them tick then solved.
So you see? I should know better. I was made to heal. And that leads me to the problem: I have a selfish soul. I’m so busy looking into my own interests that I am neglecting my purpose. I am exhausted because I am living a life meant for someone else. I’ve been going through the motions with the treadmill mentality, moving for the sake of moving but with no destination. I love people, but I use a sense of duty instead to walk through life.
There is a civil war going on between the person I am and the person I want to become. There are two seeds that have sprouted inside my heart. One is hope, and the other is instant gratification. Instant gratification only allows me to constantly look down at what is in front of me. It is the seed responsible for aimless wandering. But hope requires vision. It is a dream of something far off that requires you to leave your circular wanderings and travel in a straight line in order to reach it.
The seed of instant gratification has been growing inside me since birth. It is much bigger than the other seed, threatening to steal all the nutrients. But hope is strong. I alternate watering both, and both continue to grow. I am paralyzed because they have grown so much that there is not enough room for both. I must choose one. But my heart is afraid of the damage that will be done once one is uprooted. I know what is right, but the darkness inside me dims the vision of the person I could become. I do not move because I am paralyzed with fear. I am afraid of failure. I am afraid of success.
So the reason I ask myself “Why am I here?” is really a desire to escape the consequences of the choice that I must make. A longing to avoid the battle that is taking place in my heart. The choice to pursue that hope goes against the grain of our culture today. I ask myself, am I strong enough to swim against the current? Do I dare pursue something more than keeping up with the Jones’?
I must fight. I must fight with the hope that someday, I will overcome and fulfill my purpose. I must fight to conquer the numbness and apathy that prevents me from stepping forward. That I will become the type of perturbation that plants the seeds of hope and opens the eyes of others to the beautiful purpose of their own lives.
I talk to God, and He talks back, saying, “Do not be afraid. I have plans for you, and they are beautiful.”