Purpose is not a Bounce House
At block parties and birthday parties, one of my favorite things to observe is the delight that the bounce houses, dual-lane water slide combos, and additional amenities like cotton candy and popcorn give people.
Particularly the kids.
For the child, the inflatable’s call is almost divine. There’s no mere human or demigod that could deter Lil Jonah from its allure. The oddly-cushioned structures do unprecedented things within a child.
It offers a sense of power and freedom to children that they don’t normally have. But once the almighty chord is yanked from the outlet and the polyester Oxford sinks into unexaggerated form, the kids are bounced into the realities of school the next day… and chores.
The same deflation that cramped the kids’ bounce tends to invade the realities of my start as a young adult.
I remember being in college and feeling a levity that distanced me from a life that I felt was swallowing my joy wholesale. After graduation, I moved to a new city to make myself proud by seeking financial independence. I was serving in a church I loved. I was making friends and involved in enthralling things, assuming along the way the thrill would bounce me into my purpose. But in the middle of all these things, I still felt deflated.
As I felt this dissonance, I realized that my purpose was conflated with the things that made me feel powerful, and each time the power and enjoyment were quickly stripped away like a mains cable, I lost my sense of purpose.
When this happens (cuz let’s be honest it’s a frequent occurrence), it’s hard for me to sidestep deep sorrow and resentment for wasting my time on that which was supposed to aggrandize me, but instead left me exposed.
There is an appeal to tie our purpose to our strengths. I think this is because our strengths feel like the ingredients that help us accomplish our sense of mission in life. The apparent issue with this type of attachment is that it’s predicated on productivity and mere progress. Its aim is achievement and leaves no room for our bodies to speak to us. Exhaustion is fixed through caffeination. Confusion is bypassed by sucking it up. Wounds are left untended because of the sick idea that caring for oneself in times of crisis and sorrow is selfish.
Please, hear me. I love it when peoples’ gifts and energies coalesce and float. When purpose and strength gel, it’s hard not to feel formidable. But when competition (or tragedy) arises and your product (whether it’s your merchandise or yourself) is eclipsed by something else the world wants, I want us to have the support that—when we fall out of sight, and our dreams fizzle—prevents our shattering. I want our confidence to stand when our current life circumstances threaten to confound our purpose.
Purpose is best realized and embraced not among the treetops but besides the dandelions and wildflowers and uncut grass.
When our unkemptness, or perhaps our weakness, is on display, it is not a direct sign that we’ve parted from the path. The mundane and the interruptions, though seemingly in opposition to the task we feel we’ve been put on earth to do, are the sites where God can really shape us and show us the power of divine love as we seek to fulfill our purpose.
I am right now in a period of vocational frustration. My life is not together, and stress always stays close by. I’m very drawn to a stellar purpose. Yet, and I say this as one who wants you and what you offer to bless and heal the world: the hangtime that the bounce of purpose once gave you, if you’re not careful, will deflate into disillusionment rather than purposeful rest.
Your goals may take longer to reach than you had planned. The deflation of your soul may still persist, but may I encourage you? There’s no shame in taking a break and breathing in. Please try to resist the urge to interpret your current, perceived state of low impact as a valid estimation of your worth. As noted above, I don’t ever aim to steal the miraculous Midas touch moments away from us and pretend like they are not formational, but the glamor I’ve always looked after to bolster my aspirations lasts for a short length of time. Even bounce houses need to be unplugged to ensure their elasticity and to protect the strength of the motors that inflate them. There’s a word in there for some of us.
Something I’ve noticed about children is that it’s easy for them to bounce back from the disappointment of going home after a party. In Ted Lasso’s words, they have the “memory of a goldfish.” The next day at school, as soon as they see their best friend in the cafeteria, no amount of depressing assignments or minutes missed during recess can dissuade them from the joy they feel in the company of their peers. My prayer is that you are found by, or are able to locate, a collective of people who don’t need you for your excitement or your innovative abilities, but remind you of your purpose to just be.
Maybe this can happen on a walk while staring at dandelions on your lawn :) Who knows, you may find divine affirmation and freedom there.
Luh y’all, big time,
Ru.
I love this: “I want us to have the support that—when we fall out of sight, and our dreams fizzle—prevents our shattering. I want our confidence to stand when our current life circumstances threaten to confound our purpose.” Purpose is tough to glean, especially when we’re ground down by the wheels of capitalism. It’s a spiritual discipline to untether worth from income or conventional power. I hear you, brother.
When I was a couple years older than you are now, and I was in London as a missionary and working with refugees, I thought I was Doing the Thing. Then I read a book (don't remember either the book or the author!) in which the author pointed out that many of the people in the Bible never got to their "purpose" until much later in life. I remember David and Moses being cited as examples.
I was very put out by this observation. Then God allowed me to be essentially taken out of commission for 3-10 years (depending on various ways of breaking it down) and I thought I'd never fulfill my purpose. Now I just think the book writer was right. Everything we live through has a "purpose" as we are formed to be more like the us-version of Jesus God always intended...and OUR purpose is to become more and more like Him. I no longer feel sad or frustrated that my ministry in my 20's was largely fruitless and my ministry now seems to be a little more life-giving. Jesus was there the whole time, and as I follow, so does purpose. But you're right--very rarely is it the heady elevation of a bounce house.