I recently had another non-unique question: what exactly is the purpose of my life? We sometimes wander aimlessly, it seems, in an effort to get to a final mission in our lives. We take jobs, get involved in organizations, and participate in events - sometimes, not always - as a means to hopefully get to the end of our greater calling. "This internship will look good on my resume" or "That job would would be great resume candy," etc. We hope to meet someone who will channel us to the correct career path, in the hopes that we will land our dream job. Even within a specific professional career, we're constantly searching for the best and most perfect place for ourselves.
We may read every career self-help book, talk to industry and career experts, and even pray and still be at a loss of where exactly we fit into the grand jigsaw puzzle - career-wise and in life. And, often, not being able to find or see our individual purpose in the general scheme of life can be discouraging. We may begin to doubt our abilities, question the decisions we've made in the past (and even irrationally blame ourselves for them), and begin to simply lose hope of ever striking our 'mission.' It's a dangerous path.
Recently, I was presented with a very powerful image that helped me better - not fully - understand how to think of our purpose in life. Last Sunday, during mass, one of the altar helpers who carried the candle down the isle of the church had Down syndrome. It was incredible to see him walk down the isle very reverently, willingly, and with great purpose, serving a special role in the service.
Many people today write-off children (and adults) with Down syndrome as unproductive members of society. It is easy to do so since most people cannot relate to them. People with Down syndrome are often neglected and their goals in life are never discussed, but only assumed. Yet, this altar helper's actions served as a stark and important reminder that only God knows our grand mission in life. The altar server's presence and actions were vital to the overall service, and his purpose at that point in time served as a microscopic view of our daily purpose in life.
I don't know whether or not he fully comprehended the reasons behind his actions in the service. Similarly, we often do not know the reason(s) why we do what we do - in school, at work, or elsewhere. Instead, we simply continue our quest in hopes to search for our 'purpose in life.' Sometimes aimlessly, sometimes hopelessly.
But, the most important lesson I learned: don't write-off yourself. Our purpose, just like the altar helper's, is to serve God. He did it in a more literal sense: during mass in a church.
In our daily lives, we serve God through our quest to quench our mysterious yearning for a greater purpose - in our actions, our thoughts, and our intentions. In all of these, love is the primary ingredient. Much like the joy and the love that was exhibited by the altar helper while he held the candle, so must we hold our candles with sincere appreciation and love, no matter what the destination or the environment.
Hence, our purpose is indeed to love and to serve God.