Those were great times but my purpose was not limited to that. My song is still being sung. It might not be as entertaining but it still stirs the soul. It's just to a larger, more diverse audience now. It's my heartsong. What is a heartsong? Mattie Stepanek, author, peacemaker and a child with wisdom beyond his years, described a heartsong as "a person's special gift to be shared with others...a person's reason for being." Put simply, it is indeed the song that's in your heart. It is the truest expression of who you are sung for everyone to hear. Oprah shared her heartsong. "I know what it feels like to grow up without hugs," she shared with a aunt-turned-mother struggling with hugging her nephew. She resented the cost of this new role and was taking it out on him. "That's why I hug everybody," Oprah said, encouraging the mother to behave her way to success. "It didn't feel natural for me but I did it anyway. Now, I'm a great hugger." There is a higher purpose to be served. It's her gift out of a heart of compassion to those who might not experience it elsewhere.
I think about my time as a parent. It's time for another painfully honest confession. Until I gave birth to my son, my love was never unconditional. I didn't know what it meant to love unconditionally to be honest with you. Every other love was contingent. Even my marital vows were contingent on whether my husband upheld his part of the agreement else I wouldn't have divorced him. When my son was born, I felt a deeper meaning to my life that I had never felt before. I knew in that moment that I would do all within my power to protect him and nurture the innocent soul looking dolefully up at me.
My heartsong was for him to grow up feeling loved and supported. I never wanted him to feel the pain of isolation that I did as a child. This was the impetus to wrestle down my own demons and the familiar so I could provide that to him. It was harrrrrddddd! It was up and down, in and out, riddled with obstacles but we worked to maintain our connection through it all. It was a cooperative effort. This was one of many opportunities where purpose took center stage. I'd have to forego my own selfishness, my need to control, my own anger distortions, putting my heartsong that he would grow up to be a healthy individual above my own ideals, rules and experience. Some things I would not budge on but others I had to in order to make room for him to grow into his own person.
Bishop Jakes talked about passion and purpose being intertwined. He added however that it is our pain that gives us the motivation or thrust to look for something more. To look for a way out, a way through. Like a pulled bow, the greater the pain, the greater the extension of the pull and the further the arrow can be launched. My heartsong is born out of my pain. Like Mattie who struggled with a rare debilitating disease with respiratory difficulties and being confined to a wheelchair, we seek for meaning. We look to someone or something greater from within or without for perspective, for help, for purpose.
There had to be something more to God, to love, to my existence cause none of it seemed to be working for me. My faith was under seige. My worth was dwindling. It was out of that pain that I disrobed of everything and started my own spiritual journey. God was with me all the way, holding up a mirror. Who are you? What do you really, really, REALLY think? These were questions I had about myself and about my God. He held up a mirror and things were blurred by all the pain I was in. But as I hung out with Him, the more I started making things out. I expected to see an Image that was different. Instead, I saw His face in my reflection. He was right there! I learned that honoring my authentic soul was honoring Him. The more permission I gave myself to live my life on my terms, the more joy I felt in Him. Like Dorothy who kept telling everybody in Oz that she wanted to go home, I had the ruby slippers on all the time and could have gone home at any time. I just didn't know it. Pain led me into a greater understanding and appreciation that what I sought was already inside of me waiting to be discovered.
Thus, my purpose was birthed. So many people have been taught to fear their own voice. Either they've been shamed, rejected or retailiated against in some way for it. My purpose is not the norm, I suppose. Especially in the churchworld that I grew up in. People are taught to deny their own voice to adopt another one. If it were God's voice, I'd be cheering; but sadly, they abandon themselves for is the voice of their leader, the voice of their church doctrine, the voice of the larger religious organism. I've had to leave some people and some places behind as a result. Bishop Jakes said that sometimes we tolerate spaces that are too small for who we are. We have to move to a new space and get around affirming people. That takes courage, unwavering resolve and whole lot of passion to overcome the pull of what we left behind and create a new normal.
My family is filled with examples of people who didn't reach their fullest potential. My dad fell short of reaching his full potential. He laid in bed, dying, trying to convince us to start a family janitorial business. He wrestled with feeling like he had not provided enough for mom to live without him. My cousin Marvin fell short of reaching his full potential, finding his end on the floor of his home after having a fatal seizure due to alcohol poisoning. My cousin Jenny fell short having contracted HIV and full blown AIDS from dirty needles used to support her addiction. My cousin Lawrence had a massive heart attack when he finally started taking his health seriously. Sure, for my dad and for Lawrence there were accolades. Folks applauded their humanitarian efforts and the lives they touched. But they died with dreams unfulfilled, regrets. I can't go out like that. I just can't.
So I stand. I stand for all of those in past generations whose dreams were unfulfilled. I stand for my son, my nephews and my neices so they won't live humdrum lives or waste their time on meaningless busyness. I stand in the Image of God that is larger, broader and greater than any other image. I'm not arrogant. I'm not confrontational. I'm just determined. I want to be one of those who wake up every morning excited about their day. I want to be one of those who experience joy in their work. I want every part of my life to be authentically true. I want to be one of those who is a walking poster of fulfillment, joy and health. Like the Target Stores commercial where colorful people jump out of a hot air balloon and liven up every dull space with color, design and vibrance, I want to bring Life to every place, every space.
I don't want to spend 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week, doing a job. I want to do meaningful work. Work that makes room for me. Work that offers a purposeful space. I invite sovereign intervention. I need grace to start my own business or to recognize a like-minded employer. Just give me a thought, a name, an impulse, an inkling and I'll jump on it. Some say that I'm courageous. I'm not. At 52 years and counting, I just cannot afford to waste my time here on meaninglessness. Life is too short. I owe it to myself and the God who wired me to use this time while I have my health and strength. So I throw myself on the mercy of something Wiser, something Greater. I call upon the Wise Counselor, the Master Builder, Jehovah-Jireh, my Creator and the Love Of My Life. He's my God.
