I am not writing a blog post about wishing for the cool days of winter because it was too hot today. No, I’ve put a much-needed task off long enough. So pardon me as I compose a letter—a crucial one—to someone (actually, it’s a something, but I don’t want to offend him more than he already is) who has been giving me the cold shoulder; even though it is summertime. So here it goes.
Dear Mr. Shovel N. Garage,
I apologize it has taken me so long to write this letter to you. Do you recall the day I purchased you and brought you home? It was a snowy, winter day in Klawock, Alaska. However, before I had a chance to put you to use, it stopped snowing. Do you recall all of those days and nights at our old house? You just stood on the porch, like you were a soldier, guarding our house. Granted, you were cheaper to keep around than a guard dog; I will give you that one. Anyways, standing around all the time was all you did that winter; the winter of 2014/15.
I am sure you can remember being loaded up in a large, dark shipping container and moving to a new location. There, life was even easier. You had a covered area called a garage to stand inside to protect you from the rain and the sun beating down on you. After a while, you even got to lay down on top of some boxes and just take a nap—a very long nap—while everyone else had to work. Your job was laying around all the time. That gig lasted a whole year. Yipe, even during the winter of 2015/16, in Alaska of all places; resting was all you did.
Which leads me to this last winter, we got hammered with snow, and even though you are not a hammer, you got used many times. I never used you in a way that took advantage of you, but in the way your maker designed you. After two years of being able to do nothing but relax, I am concerned with the possibility you felt that that was your purpose in life.
(Warning: This paragraph contains many, many puns!) So, Mr. Shovel N. Garage, please don’t fly off the handle or give me the cold shoulder any longer. Shovels are created to, well, shovel. You’re a snow shovel so you can proudly sing, “There’s no business like snow business, like no business I know!” Here’s the scoop, snow removal is your thing; not porch standing or garage napping. I am just scraping the surface, but scraping the surface of the sidewalk is your appointment in life. Can you dig it? Your pay is that you can collect each flake of snow likes it’s a long lost coin, and deposit it in the snow bank. Your reward is a job well done.
It is imperative you realize you are not alone. The Maker creates everyone for a particular purpose. The Bible (right after telling us its God’s grace that saves us) shares this truth: “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.” (Eph. 2:10 NASU) Just like you, they too were not created to do nothing but sit, stand, or lay around. They have God-ordained work to do. God drew up the blueprints and then created every believer on purpose for a purpose. Each person can seek God, and He will faithfully reveal His divine purpose for their life. You, on the other hand, don’t need to ask God. I showed you last winter what your purpose is.
So, my dear Mr. Shovel, I do not know if this next winter will bring you much work or tons of rest. I recommend you start storing up some energy just in case in a handful of months you need to go outside and perform your intended tasks.
PS. I sure hope everyone who reads your letter already knows their God-given purpose and if not, they will start on a journey of discovering His plans and objectives for their life.