Purpose [pur-puh s] 1.the reason for which something exists or is done, made, used, etc.

I saw this beautiful girl today. I was slightly mesmerized by the encounter, imagining that I was watching a movie. She also, apparently, is a Cubs fan, which earns her a few more points.
And now the sickness that is sin. I immediately started tearing my own life apart, scrutinizing everything about me, and coming up with practical ways that I could change, in order for her to find me attractive. “Loose some weight,” is always the main one for me. So in a matter of seconds, I have a new purpose, with an attainable goal.

I don’t hate myself. I might wish that I was a little leaner, but not enough to make weight loss my purpose. This situation ignited some thought, though. How important is purpose? When I become purposeful regarding anything, I honestly feel good. I have a mission. I have value. I have meaning. If I had a wife and children, I would have a purpose all of the time. And that purpose would be practical.

My life has purpose. Christ has purchased my life, making it not my own, and yet, the purpose it has given me seems sometimes to be ambiguous, in that it is unclear.

I was blessed to read Rob’s entry, regarding Nathan. The statement “I just want to say that I pity those who have to mourn without Jesus, because what we have done this week has been beautiful,” Really resounded with me today, as I watched this girl, and all of the places my mind went, thereafter.

I pity those who search for purpose without Jesus, because purpose is defined by this relationship.