Living to Serve

Ever since I was a small child I've had the desire to be helpful. There are a few positive things that I can truly muster about myself without feeling slightly guilty and one of those is my kindness and my ability to love. I've always been that person people turn to. I've always been someone to lose sleep over an individual in need. I pride myself in giving so much more than I take. It's something that brings me great happiness. Knowing that somehow, someway, I made a difference. A person smiled because of something I did. I live for it.

My faith and complete devotion to Christ and the Roman Catholic Church has made this combination of desire into a perfect match. God formed me in my mother's womb and has paved this path for me. I just know it. Because even simply looking at an agenda of a weekend retreat gives me a sort of high that I cannot fully describe. My heart catches fire with anticipation and the joy of being a part of a bigger plan. I desire nothing more than the prayer I pray every day. Lord, help me to be an instrument to Your will. May my hands serve You. May my words speak Your truth. May my heart love Your children the way You intend me to.

I haven't been looking forward to this upcoming weekend for a couple reasons. Number one I miss my best friend so very much and I want to be at the airport to greet her home. Number two I have so much going on in my life and so many things to stress about that I couldn't really think about dealing with 62 5th-8th graders for four days. But as soon as Jeremy handed me that schedule and began talking about this weekends events I became happy. And that realization hit me incredibly hard because I'm not a happy person. I live each day in this kind of emotional pain and stress that makes every breath difficult. But I have never been unhappy doing youth ministry. I have never felt empty. Nothing, not even loving Chris, has ever felt so right than serving God and His children in this way.

I failed at dying because I was supposed to live to serve.