Searching for Meaning
I have spent a great deal of my life searching for the meaning of life, often wondering what my purpose might be. I’ve asked myself where I came from and where I am going. Have I found complete answers? Not quite. But along the way, I discovered God—the Creator and Architect of this vast and mysterious universe.
And of course, that led to more questions. What does God want? Why are we here?
Over time, I came to understand something simple yet profound: God longs for love. I began to feel that we were created as His children, not out of necessity, but out of a desire for relationship. A quiet kind of longing. He simply wants us to love Him in return.
Perhaps you see things differently. That’s okay. This is just my journey—one path among many.
Learning How to Live
Before we are born, we spend months quietly preparing for life. And once we arrive, we begin learning everything—how to move, how to speak, how to understand the world.
At first, we only know how to receive love. In time, we learn how to give it.
I once heard a child say that people are born to learn how to live good lives—how to love and be kind—while dogs already know how, so they don’t need to stay as long. There’s something beautifully simple in that thought.
I often wonder if I will learn everything I’m meant to before my time here ends.
Just for a While
What do you think happens after this life? Do you feel certain, or does it remain a mystery?
Recently, I had to say goodbye to a dear friend who is nearing the end of her life. When I learned she had entered hospice care, I called her right away. It was comforting to hear her voice.
We reminisced about happy memories. I thanked her for being part of my life. We cried together. I told her how I would remember her—strong, spirited, funny, and brave. Even now, I can still hear her laughter and see her smile.
Before we said goodbye, I promised I would look for her when I get there.
A Glimpse Beyond
My father once told me that he had a near-death experience. He described seeing a light, and hearing a voice telling him it was not yet his time. Not long after, I was born.
Because of that, my birth held special meaning for him. The last time I saw him, he told me how much joy it brought into his life.
Moments like these make me feel that our time here is only a small part of something much greater.
A Temporary Home
Life on earth is brief. Even if we live a full life, it is only a short stay. In many ways, we are like temporary guests on this beautiful planet.
If God is infinite, and if we are truly His children, then perhaps we, too, are meant for something beyond this limited time. Maybe there is another world—one where things do not fade.
Growing in Love
So what are we meant to do while we are here?
As I grow older, I feel more certain that our bodies are not the entirety of who we are. They are sacred vessels—homes for our souls and spirits.
And within this life, we are given the chance to grow.
To love nature.
To love one another.
To love God.
The world can exist without us, but I sometimes feel that love cannot fully exist without being shared. Like a nursery waiting for a child, or a home waiting to be filled, there is a sense of longing built into creation itself.
Finding Beauty in Imperfection
Nothing in this world remains still. Time moves quietly but constantly, shaping everything.
Even our ideas of perfection change. What once seemed flawless may later feel incomplete. Life becomes messy. Skin wrinkles. Plans shift.
So perhaps the goal of life is not to achieve perfection.
There is a Japanese concept called Wabi-Sabi, which teaches us to find beauty in imperfection—in the worn, the incomplete, the ever-changing. Think of crystals: each one forms differently, shaped by its environment, carrying its own history. No two are alike.
In the same way, our lives are uniquely imperfect. And there is a quiet beauty in that.
Becoming Whole
For a long time, I struggled to accept myself. I held onto an image of who I thought I should be, and the distance between that ideal and my true self felt overwhelming.
But slowly, I began to understand that growth doesn’t come from chasing perfection. It comes from acceptance—from meeting ourselves where we are, and gently moving forward.
This journey of becoming—of reconciling who we are with who we hope to be—is lifelong.
Through joy and sorrow, through challenges and small victories, we grow. And in that growth, our capacity to love deepens.
What Truly Lasts
The more I reflect, the more I feel that love is the only thing that truly transcends time.
When we leave this world, we do not take our achievements, our possessions, or even our knowledge with us. These things matter while we are here—but they do not follow us beyond.
What remains is the state of our soul.
If a spirit carries anger and pain, what kind of world does it enter? But if it carries love, kindness, and peace, then perhaps that is the world it helps create.
A Gentle Wish
When I spoke with my friend, I told her that I hoped she could transition with peace, with love, and even with a sense of quiet joy, despite her pain.
It’s a wish I hold not just for her, but for everyone.
A Simple Reminder (From Noah’s Ark)
I’ll close with a lighthearted list I recently came across—simple thoughts, but full of meaning:
- Don’t miss the boat.
- Remember, we are all in the same boat.
- Plan ahead—it wasn’t raining when the Ark was built.
- Stay strong. You never know when you’ll be called to do something big.
- Ignore the critics; just do what needs to be done.
- Build your life on steady ground.
- Travel in pairs—it’s safer that way.
- Speed isn’t everything. The snails made it, too.
- When you feel overwhelmed, allow yourself to rest and float for a while.
- The Ark was built by amateurs; the Titanic by professionals.
- No matter the storm, when you are with God, there is always a rainbow waiting.
