I was created by my mother to reproduce; I assume to be her legacy. But I was a failure from the start as it was learned that I was not fertile. I was removed from my mother immediately (again I assumed because I had no worth to her). What good is an infertile being to it’s mother? After being loaded in a dirty truck I was put through harsh showers and abused by harsh lights and belts only to end up in a dark cold box where I was cold and alone. What had I done to deserve this?
Again I was moved, lifted, boxed and moved again only to end up in another cold place where I sat for days, possibly weeks. After one more move I found myself in the worst predicament of my life – in boiling water! God, I cried, why am I being tortured when all I ever wanted was to grow up to be like my mom?
In the intense boiling water I became harden. My once loose flexible self became hardened to life. I could absorb hits and bumps and I fought back. I wasn’t going to take the abuse anymore and be broken like some of my friends. Children grabbed at me and laughed. They abused me with dyes and stickers and markers. They laughed and taunted me. They left me out on the ground and then brought me back inside to the cold torture again. Why? I remained hardened and angry at the life I was given.
The next day I was removed from the cold again and slammed against a hard surface! More abuse. It took several hits but I finally gave in and broke. My skin was pulled off and I laid exposed and cut apart into pieces. That was the end. I never became like my mother. I never lived to know her. I had no offspring. I had no legacy. I was a failed, abused, tortured infertile being with no purpose! What a sorry life. What a sorry end. . . .
I never understood my calling. I never realized that I turned out exactly the way my master wanted me to be. I never realized that all the trials I went through were required for me to become the creation that I was meant to be. What I thought was torture was really preparing me and forming me into my destiny. What I counted as loss was really my master’s will. What I counted as abandonment was actually the fruitfulness that I was meant to be – I brought joy to people. I brought nourishment to people. I brought happiness to children. I had an important mission all along but I couldn’t see it. I never understood and only looked at what I thought I should be. How could I have missed the most important realization of what I was meant to be?
Why do we live in sorrow for what we have failed when God has a much bigger plan for us? Why do we fight against the plan for our lives?
Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”