purpose

Today, all the feelings of foreboding associated with Christmas returned, occasioned by my firm's second annual Christmas lunch. For 16 years now, since 1993, Christmas lunch, indeed the entire holidays season, has been a rueful time for me, because I associate it with my father's death in December of that year. He did alot for me - he made me walk. Without his commitment, 2 hours every night for 12 or 13 years, to engage in difficult, brutal, physically and emotionally exhausting strength-on-strength exercises, my legs against his arms and shoulders, I would never have walked. I owe him my life. And I am in debt to my mother and brothers for sacrificing any semblance of normal family life in favor of our nightly contest of wills to make my legs strong enough to carry me along, albeit haltingly, these 53 years. And I benefitted mightily otherwise by learning what force of will can accomplish. I can't help but think that over these 16 years, my willfulness, my power of will (if you will), feels progressively weaker. Yet, I know it's still there, it really is the only strength I have, and it's as strong as anybody's. Even now.

Today's lunch was meaningful. We have a group whose identity is slowly developing into its own, distinct from the old firm. I spoke the blessing, for the first time in my life, and for the first time in my life I meant every word of it. Our group really does seem to be developing the sense of belonging critical to any committed enterprise.

Long ago, I sensed that I affected people positively; I suppose that they drew some degree of inspiration from my perseverance. Through the years, I lost that, and my life diminished. Now, faith in God, the God of Christ and the Holy Spirit, is growing in me a sense of purpose, and it has nothing to do with my wants, goals, etc. Rather, I am coming to the view that all the pain and deprivation in my life has value only to the extent to which it serves to demonstrate to me and to others that God is present in us, in me. God's grace is in the honesty we have for ourselves and others and in the consideration we exercise for others, lived in selflessness; this must be what we call love, isn't it ? And when people see those attributes truly lived (however fleetingly), they recognize it, and it changes them, it brings a bit of grace into them. Maybe that's what my purpose is, what it's been the whole time, whether I was up to the task or not. Maybe we all share that same purpose; some's circumstances bring them to the realization easier than others.

I'll bet that my dad thought his purpose in life was to make me walk. He did what he said out to do. For most of my life I thought of my own purpose negatively - if I had any purpose at all, it was to avoid failure, to survive, and to somehow provide a foundation for my kids so that they wouldn't fail. Maybe I could have avoided many problems by knowing that there is a positive reason for my existence after all - to demonstrate that life lived with God's grace triumphs over all the obstacles we think we have. I have alot of catching up to do to fulfill my purpose.

With my lumbar spine now joing my cervical spine in the herniation sweepstakes, I could barely wak out of the restaurant. Nonetheless, I was contented and secure in the knowledge that I had a place among people who valued me and wanted me to be among them. I saw one of the folks who departed from us en masse 9 years ago, and despite the many millions he's been given over those years, he looked miserable. I guess there's never enough money if it's money not truly earned. It's a bit of a shock to me to realize that my life, for all its desolations, must be considered blessed insofar as I'm happy; if it is, it's due entirely to the grace bestowed upon me from God, and I know it. That other guy doesn't know that. I'm the lucky guy, not him.