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Everything Happens for a Purpose
by Neil Anthony
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Everything Happens for a Purpose

Life is a never ending spiral of ups and downs. For many, it is due to a financial crisis in the family�having to meet both ends (the income and the need). And many times, the need exceeds far beyond the income. For others, it is because of one or two members in the family�an unfaithful spouse or a loose son or daughter. For a few, it is the loss of a love one. And for others like me, it is because of a poor condition in health�the love one that will soon to be lost.

I had been sick of a disease doctors would have a hard time naming it. Perhaps, it was too complex of an illness that naming it would leave the other diseases unmentioned. There are medical reasons of how I contracted each disease; but there was no explanation of how I got them all at once.

It was Saturday; and I was just discharged from the hospital. It was not because I was cured, but all because it was too expensive for me to be there. There was a point in my life where I found myself at the bottom of what I could imagine as the deepest pitfall. That was the time.

I would have liked to be healed�to live a long happy life. Yet, I found no reason of why I should hope for such an illusion. If there was one wish that I really longed for at that time, that was to die; and that was to die real soon. I couldn�t wait more than a month with all the pain, the hassles, and the frustrations I had been undergoing.

I would have liked to kill myself, but I couldn�t do so. I couldn�t even move my arms and legs to kill myself. For many times, I tried to cease on breathing; no matter how I hold my breath, I just ended up finding myself gasping for air again. This is man�s nature�to breathe, to live, and to survive. No matter how I hold my breath somehow someone tried to make me live longer�perhaps to punish me, to torment me, or to prolong my suffering.

Occasionally, it made me ponder and ask why this should ever happen to me; and why of the millions should it be on me. I was honest with my dealings, generous to the less fortunate, and befriended every person in the neighborhood. Then, why me?

I didn�t have the answers. Friends would visit me and tell me that God loves me�that �Everything happens for a purpose.� This I couldn�t accept; no God�loving as He is�would ever inflict pain on someone just to convey a message that He loves him. What a way of expressing love! And yes, if there is a purpose for everything, then its only purpose is to make me suffer.

As I have mentioned earlier, I was at the bottom of this pitfall; and there was no other way out, but up. And the only way up was this tiny yarn thrown out to me by friends who called themselves Christians. I would have gladly said, �No, thank you. I rather will come up with a rope or ladder.� But there was none at that time. Reason seemed to have ceased, and all that was left was this foolish attempt of saving me.

One of my inner rebuttals led me even to question my friends� faith this way, �If they really believe in this Jesus, why don�t they just carry me to Church and have me cured. Why do they have to keep on asking for my consent?� Never did I realize that this yarn was feeble when used for pulling me, but strong when I would use it to climb out of that misery.

Perhaps, this yarn was my simple yes to Jesus�my simple act of allowing myself to listen. To listen to what he has to tell me�that He loves me. And eventually, as I learn to listen to Him, I learn to forgive my father who has abandoned me when I was two years of age. The actual healing happened on my bed at home when I opened the deepest recesses of my heart for God�s love and forgiveness. The actual, instant, and miraculous healing was not physical, but more on the spiritual, emotional, and psychological. From then, I discovered that I had learned to accept my condition as my fate, yet at the same time had become hopeful and optimistic that soon I will be healed. I found meaning every minute of my day thanking God for my life and for the chance and time to praise him. I was blessed with time; that was what I got while in bed�time. And time did I use for prayer. In days, I began to feel a lot better; in weeks, I was able to move my limbs. And after months of thanksgiving and prayer, I finally had the chance to move around on a wheelchair. Though I didn�t have the chance to be with my father face to face, I did visit him on his final resting place. Healing did happen the time when I really learned to forgive and learned to be forgiven.

Then again, the question was �Why me?� I didn�t have the answers; and until this time, I couldn�t exactly be specific on one answer. Perhaps, there shouldn�t be answer.

All I know that it happened for a purpose�customized just for me�to make me more fulfilled, to make me find meaning in life in a deeper way, and to have me acknowledge God for every little thing I am experiencing every moment.

Yet actually, I don�t really have the answer; and I don�t intend to know them. I am just contended in accepting the fact that God loves me.

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...in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them... 2 Cor 5:19

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Member Comments
Member Date
Joyce Poet 21 Feb 2007
Ah, okay. Funny how God works sometimes. See, He gave me something to write this morning concerning the "why's" that we all have or have had in our lives. It's going to be difficult to sit down and write it, so I've been kind of putting it off. Decided to read a little instead and this was the first article I opened. One of the lines in the article I'm supposed to be writing goes something like this: "WHY did my father abandon me at age three? WHY..., WHY..., WHY..." ...and so forth. The remainder of the article has to do with purpose. No surprise, huh? Well, I guess this was all the confirmation I needed. I shall get to work. May the Lord wonderfully bless you today.
Mitzi Busby 21 Feb 2007
This blessed my socks off.Thanks.


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