Devil’s in the Details
I often overthink, but I manage to conclude things every now and then.
I often wonder what my mission is here on Earth.
When I feel tossed at sea and in need of an anchor, I remind myself of the first question and answer from the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “What is the chief end of man? Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.”
Most days, though, that’s a bit too cosmic, a bit too large-scale. Often, this reflection overlaps with stressing about life and the near future, and I look to Matthew 6:33 “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you,” these things referring to the basic necessities.
There are so many layers and verses I shift about as I search for clarity. There are some universal kingdom missions—“to visit orphans and widows in their affliction” (James 1:27) for example—but what is my mission?
I’ll tell you now. I think it’s to write.
I’m sharing this little deluge of doubt because I’m always seeking wisdom. The world is so big, and the people are so loud. I don’t think the world has any wisdom. I think I should keep myself “unstained from the world” (still James 1:27). I thought I’d have more bolstering comrades on this funny planet, but it seems a lot of people are just busy: too busy to dig any deeper than goodhowareyouseeyounextweek. They love to speak up when they want to jab at your choices. They’re strangely absent when you’re in need of a kind and patient ear—or just plain kindness.
I could wend in endless circles, trying to share with you all the little back-and-forths I’ve had inside my head, but I think I just needed to write it out loud.
My mission is to write.
If I’m wrong, I’ll just be one more weary shell scraping at the underbelly of this tired orb.
If I’m right—if God has been nudging me toward writing for as long as I believe He has—then the details don’t matter.
The devil’s in the details anyway.