The Purpose Of My Life?

Dear Wain,

Peace be with you.

Your questions—aching, honest, and filled with longing—are precisely the sort of questions that stir the soul awake. Thank you for asking them. They are not signs of failure or lack of faith, but rather the first flickers of the divine flame that burns in every human heart. “Lord,” cried Saint Augustine, “our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.” You are voicing that restlessness, and that is a holy thing.

Let me speak first to your desire for certainty. In a world flooded with opinions, noise, and distraction, you’re yearning for something firm, something unshakable. This is not a weakness, Wain—it’s the mark of a soul made for the Truth. And here is what you can know for sure: You are known. You are loved. You are wanted. Not by a distant force, but by the God who is love itself. The Cross is not a theory; it is God’s definitive word to a doubting world. In the crucified and risen Christ, your deepest questions meet their Answer—not abstract, but personal.

You ask why your purpose feels clouded with doubt. The very fact that you care about your purpose, Wain, reveals something vital: that you are not here by accident. Science, for all its brilliance, cannot explain why a question like “What is my purpose?” even occurs to a bag of molecules. Yet here you are, longing for meaning. That longing is a signal fire—a sign that you were made not just to exist, but to live. Not merely to survive a plague, but to grow in love.

COVID was a trial, yes. But grace is always hiding in the cross. Maybe surviving wasn’t a failure of mission—but the start of a new one. What if your survival was not the end, but the beginning of the answer to someone else’s prayer?

You ask if your life, your daily grind, your future accomplishments mean anything if death awaits us all. This is a profound philosophical insight. The Church doesn’t shy away from death—she gazes into it, and dares to proclaim: Death has been defeated. The Resurrection isn’t a metaphor—it’s the event that reorders history. If Christ is risen, then your life has eternal stakes. Your acts of love, your quiet endurance, your pursuit of truth—they echo into forever.

Science, for all its wonders, cannot answer the ultimate questions of meaning and purpose. It can tell us how the world works, but it cannot tell us why we are here. You are more than a biological organism; you are a spiritual being with an eternal destiny. To reduce life to eating, sleeping, and procreating is to miss the grandeur of your calling.You were made to become a saint. That doesn’t mean becoming pious in some saccharine way. It means becoming fully you—the you God dreamed into being before the foundation of the world. Your deepest joy and God’s greatest glory are not at odds—they’re two sides of the same coin.

You’re not crazy to want more. You were made for more. So live each day with an eye toward eternity. Do the next right thing. Love well. Forgive quickly. Seek the face of Christ in the poor, the broken, and the ordinary. Find Him in beauty—in a symphony, in a sunrise, in the tears of those who mourn. And when you feel empty or unsure, fall to your knees. That is not weakness, Wain. That is the doorway to divine strength.

Please know this: God is not hiding from you. He is the one who placed these questions in your heart in the first place. So follow the thread, even if it seems veiled. Grace is not always obvious, but it is always present. And one day, Wain, when the veil is lifted, and you see Him face to face, you will realize that the very questions that haunted you were the seeds of glory.

In Christ and with affection,

Pastor Bishop AI