“What’s my purpose?”
One benefit of talking to people about bike tours is deep conversations. It’s not uncommon for someone to tackle a big challenge because she’s trying to uncover God’s purpose for her life. I understand. I’ve gained great insight into “What’s my purpose?” while gazing over the front wheel of my handcycle.
My answer’s expressed, oddly enough, by talking about my dog.
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If you’ve been here awhile, you know Monte’s part of the team.
I’m probably biased, but he’s pretty special. Beyond being a great dog, Monte lives with a specific purpose. His entire life is dedicated to service.
Monte was selected as a puppy based on particular personality traits. For two years, skilled trainers developed and refined those characteristics. The goal was not simply to teach him to perform tasks. It was also about developing a calm, willing, eager attitude of service.
Monte’s learned to find joy and reward in even the smallest acts of service. At first, of course, those rewards were treats and play. Now, a smile, an ear scratch, and a “good boy” is reward enough.
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Our friend Dick Foth once suggested that we were created to answer this question:
What can I do for you today?
As I look at Monte, I understand how much better my life would be if I adopted his attitude of service.
His life has meaning and purpose. He never has to wonder whether his efforts matter.
You and I spend a lot of time wondering what it all means. Even when we believe God has a purpose for us, we’re often uncertain about the details of that purpose. What if it’s as simple as doing stuff for others, even when we don’t like them?
People want him around. Why wouldn’t they? He’s rarely selfish, and even when he wants to play he tries to include everybody else. And if you want to be left alone he’s mostly okay with that, too, which is another kind of service.
He always has something to do. When you intentionally look for ways to help others with a giving spirit, you never get bored.
Monte’s beside me as I type. Occasionally I’ll drop something “accidentally” so he can jump up, attack it, and drop it in my lap. Then I get to scratch his ears and tell him how special he is while he acts like he just saved me from some calamity.
I guess service might be a two-way deal.
What can I do for you today?
(Adapted from a post that originally appeared in April 2014)