I met a black Labrador puppy named Gerald the other day. He scurried over and let me pet his velvety head and admire his fat paws.
Gerald looked like an ordinary dog, but his trainer, Tracy, told me he has a special purpose. You see, he’s learning how to become a guide dog for the blind.
When I was a little girl, the sisters taught us about life’s meaning and purpose. “Who created me?” was answered with “God.” And why did he create me? “To know, love and serve him in this world and be happy with him in the next.”
For parents, serving God means making the huge sacrifices needed for children to thrive. For a medical worker, service entails shelving concerns about one’s own well-being to help patients.
Sadly, politics can distract us from our life’s God-given meaning. Yes, voting is our obligation as citizens, but getting too embroiled with platforms and policies may dampen our love for folks with different agendas.
A friend who was aware of this danger created a yard sign: “However you vote, I am glad to be your neighbor.”
Too often, Hollywood stars are seen as models of meaningful lives. After all, they lavish money on luxuries and indulge in frequent love affairs, so surely they’re happy, right?
Still, many are using drugs, getting divorced multiple times and anguishing over aging. That’s a recipe for misery.
Perhaps they’ve forgotten God isn’t impressed by bank accounts and fame. You can’t name-drop your way into heaven or drive a fancy car through the Pearly Gates.
Truth be told, it takes one vote to win heaven — and it’s cast by God. For Christians, the ticket into heaven means following Christ, who emphasized helping the sick, the dying, the prisoners and the poor.
Kindness toward others needn’t be a big deal. Yes, it’s wonderful when folks donate thousands to help people after storms hit.
But remember the widow in the Gospels who gives her last coin to the poor — and the woman who washes Jesus' feet with her tears. These small gestures create ripples that last forever.
Some folks say we can’t see God, so how do we serve him? It helps to realize he exists in the hearts of other people, although mysteriously disguised.
We find him in the raggedy old guy begging at the grocery store, the scared teenager covered in tattoos and the bedridden lady in a nursing home.
I spent years poring over philosophy tomes in college, futilely searching for life’s meaning. You see, I’d forgotten the simple lesson of childhood, “knowing, loving and serving God."
Fortunately, God is merciful, so folks who stumbled down the wrong path for a while — like me — can find forgiveness.
Let’s pray there won’t be a padlock on the Pearly Gates when we get there. Let’s hope St. Peter will check the big book and locate our name.
Let’s pray we’ll dance through those gates someday into a land where there will be a blessed absence of recounts and run-offs.
Just green fields and sweet skies and the bright sound of angels singing. And, really, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear excited barking and turn around and see a big black Lab heading my way.
Lorraine’s email address is lorrainevmurray@yahoo.com.
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