Dramatis Personae

Have you ever sworn at God? She swore at God. In the rain, she stood, tears on her face mirroring the tears from the heavens. The wetness on the ground soaked into the knees of her jeans, but she didn't notice. She clutched at the air in desperation, shouting into the night as if there were someone to hear her. But she didn't really believe that there was.

Her voice drifted out in the darkness, the sound traveling for miles before finally dissipating in thin air.

Thin air. She knew that's all it was. But her heart was heavy and so she cried out nonetheless. If she had been an outsider watching the spectacle, it is likely she would have smirked snidely. Why would one cry out, if one believes there is no one to hear?

Desperation had built roots in her very being. She felt its clutches around her heart. It physically weighed on her; her chest felt like it would collapse under the pressure. The wails of her heart fell on an empty world- there was no one there but she. The rain was beginning to puddle on the ground as she rose and looked around with futility in her eyes. There was no point in looking around; there was nothing to see.

Alone.

The true meaning of the word collided with her for the first time. So alone, in fact, that she couldn't even talk to herself.
____________________________________________________________________

The purpose of life, we all agree, is to bring glory to God. But God does not depend on our lives to receive glory. It's icing on the cake.

We, however, need a personal purpose.

It is the sea that makes the sailor
And the land that shapes the sea
And I do not know yet what I am made of
Or all I may someday be
And it is the wood that makes a carpenter
It's the very tools of his trade
And it is love that makes a lover
And a cross that makes a saint
-Rich Mullins