What is Your Purpose? You May be Asking the Wrong Question.

Growing up, you hear all about a purpose. What is your purpose on this earth? What were you created for? What is your destiny? It's in the movies, family discussions, church lessons.

Why am I here? Why am I this person, placed in this family, in this time?

These are questions that I often pondered until I lived a truly mind boggling experience that shifted something within me. On that curious day, once I returned home feeling odd and confused, I began to wonder if we were asking the wrong questions. What if I'm not here for one single purpose? What if we're all here for everyone but ourselves? Am I placed on this earth, in this life, at this time to simply affect others? I believe that we all are.

I was driving home from work on a warm Sunday evening. I rarely worked Sundays, but each employee had to work at least one Sunday out of the month on an alternating schedule. I remember the sky perfectly, tinted with a grayish orange from the descending sun. I had rolled my windows down, shut off the radio, and was enjoying the drive.

I was only minutes away from home when I was overcome with a sudden desire to stop at the library on my way. The library was in walking distance from our house. Ever since we had moved into the new home just a couple years ago, it was a place my sister and I spent most of our time at, so the impulse was not out of the ordinary. At first I thought nothing of it, but as I began to realize that there was nothing particular that I wanted at the library, I tried to talk myself out of the notion. Despite my attempts, my longing for the library became inexplicably overwhelming. The desire was so strong that it was noticeably strange, as I knew there was nothing for me there.
I picked up my cell phone and called my mother. In words that sounded more like a question than a statement, I told her I was stopping at the library. She had asked me why, and all I could do was laugh and say, “I have no idea; I just really want to.”
By the time I was pulling into the parking lot, I understood that I was there for a reason. My eyes raked the building for some sort of sign or symbol as I reluctantly got out of my car, and headed to the entrance.
The routine was as familiar as breathing, so when I pulled on the door handle, I was shocked when it didn't budge. I pulled at it again, confused and frustrated, but it was locked. My eyes were drawn to the small sign that listed the hours of operation.

Monday – Friday 10:00 to 9:00

Saturday 10:00 to 8:00

Sunday Closed.

I had stared at the sign, baffled as if I was being lied to. I had already known perfectly well that the library was closed on Sundays. So why was I here?

After peering through the glass and assessing the vacant establishment, I slowly turned away from the doors and realized for the very first time that my car was the only one in the parking lot. Though the lot was empty of vehicles, there was however, a boy.
His name was Sean. I knew him from school. He was a grade or two younger than I and was the Student Body President in middle school. As I watched him crossing through the parking lot, completely unaware of me, I thought of how much I had missed that kid. He had always been so kind, joyful, and confident. He was a good soul with an addicting personality.

I called out to him. “Sean?”

He stopped, and grinned when he saw me. “Shannon! It's so good to see you! It's been forever!”

“I know,” I smiled as I approached him. “What are you doing here?”

He adjusted his heavy looking back-pack on his shoulders and said, “I'm just walking home.”

“Where do you live?”

He pointed in the direction of my home. “Just over in that neighborhood.”

“Hey, I live there too. I'm surprised I've never seen you around. Do you want a ride?”

He smiled that genuine smile that I remembered. “That would be great, thank you.”

As we got in my car, I scanned the area once more, feeling hopelessly confused.

“What were you doing at the library?” Sean asked as we drove.

“I didn't know that it was closed. I was just on my way home from work and needed to pick up a book,” I replied, my distracted eyes set on the library in my rear view mirror.

As I turned up the street and into our neighborhood, there was a group of teenage boys walking along the sidewalk. Sean made a small groan, his eyes on the boys as we passed.

I was slightly surprised, as I had never known Sean to dislike anyone. “Do you know them?”

“They go to my school,” he muttered, still watching them in his passenger side mirror.

“Do you not like them?” I pressed.

He shrugged. “They don't like me.”

I exaggerated my surprise. “Why? Who couldn't like you?!”

Sean flashed a bashful smile, but it didn't reach his dark eyes. “I don't know. They just don't.”

Sean directed me to his house, which was only a street over from mine, and thanked me sincerely for the ride. As I was pulling out of his driveway, my head began to ache as I continued to rack my brain for an explanation for my odd impulse to visit the library.

“How was it?” My mom asked, when I arrived home.

“It was closed,” I explained, my brow furrowed with frustration.

“Oh yeah! You didn't know that?”

I pursed my lips. “I did.”

She cocked her head to one side, looking confused. “Then why were you there?”

I saw Sean's face in my head, and I knew exactly why.

 

The event was simple and insignificant. A trip to the library, seeing an old friend, a ride home. Have you ever wondered at how your words and your actions, your essential being, is affecting everyone around you? That one simple decision has the potential to cause a resonating butterfly effect?

I can't help but wonder about the group of boys we had passed. Though I don't dare claim to have saved Sean from any violence or conflict, I knew that I was there for him that night and my belief in my purpose on this earth was forever changed.
And who knows? Perhaps that was the reason for my experience. Perhaps Sean was there for me that night.

Ladies and gentlemen, I truly believe that instead of asking ourselves what we're here for, we need to be asking ourselves who we're here for. It is your impact that could change the world.

Have you ever had an odd experience that left you without a solid explanation? I'd LOVE to hear it!