If You Had a Divine Purpose, How Would You Know?

I have always felt that I was meant to do something or be someone who would do great things in my lifetime. So far in my eyes, I have led what I would call an ordinary life. There have been great moments, but none of which would be called triumphant by anyone who has truly achieved greatness and received accolades for their success.

I have led my life with integrity. I have had few close friends whom I can still rely on, and they on me. Even though it may seem like a small thing, there is greatness in that. I nursed a sick husband for sixteen years until he left me for a better place. Together, we raised a challenged daughter to be very self sufficient. Because of our encouragement she has accomplished more than anyone ever thought she possibly could. I was insistent that she be everything that she could be and then some. We raised a son, who, given the challenges of coping with an ill father and a handicapped sister rose above the difficulties and became a man with great character of whom I am extremely proud. When he was a little boy, I heard him tell his friends, "My Daddy doesn't go on business trips. He goes to the hospital." My heart broke into pieces and it has never recovered. Perhaps seeing my family through these seemingly ordinary events is my life purpose. Sometimes, I think we have to stop and rest and just let God and our angels guide us to where we are needed on our paths.

It really doesn't take very much to make me happy. The first robin in spring to make a wish upon, a penny from Heaven, a tiny perfect bird's nest that has mystically fallen from the sky and been left just for me as I walk to my car. And, my dogs make me feel serene as I listen to the sounds that my sweet 15 year old dog, Nike, makes as she sleeps, and the nudging and cuddling of my little poodle, Phoebe, as she lies under the safety of our blankets at night. Then, there is the sight and aroma of my garden and the sheer delight of being able to watch things grow and use some of them in my cooking. The look of love that I can conjure up from my plentiful memory bank from my sweet husband's eyes as he would watch me from his chair as I rubbed his aching feet. Oh, those beautiful blue eyes that would light up at the sight of the first rose that I would offer up to him to intoxicate all of his senses.