Why Did God Create Me?

When I was in kindergarten, my teacher wrote letters to her students’ parents, identifying the positive qualities she saw in each child. To mine she wrote, “Michele loves to retell stories and rhymes.” Eight years later, my classmates put together a yearbook in which they predicted I’d be “imparting a knowledge of English.”

They were right.

My adult years found me teaching English for 20 years and launching a writing career. My love for language has never waned.

Were my abilities apparent as early as kindergarten?

I believe they were. But it wasn’t an accident, a haphazard chance, or even the right combination of genes that these abilities were inherent in my nature. They were—they are—gifts, tools to use to fulfill the reason I’m here on earth—the reason God created me.

Why did God make me?

The only answer I find that hits the mark is the one I memorized in first grade: God made me to know, love, and serve Him in this world.

But how can I know someone I can’t even see? Whose Voice I can’t even hear audibly? Is this even possible?

Yes, it is.

When I first met my husband, I learned about him through the information mutual friends gave me. But I didn’t know him personally until I’d spent time with him, talking with him, listening to him, getting to know what he liked to eat, what kind of music he preferred, what his hobbies were. It took time, too, to learn to recognize his voice over the phone. I’ll never forget the time I mistook his father’s voice for his!

As I got to know him better, I found my love for him growing. And the more I loved him, the more I wanted to please him. I learned to cook his favorite meal—roast beef, mashed potatoes, homemade noodles, gravy, and homemade bread. I lived to please him.

The same is true with God.

I learned all about Him in religion class and through what others told me. But I didn’t know God personally until I began to spend time with Him by reading His Word and talking to Him in prayer. The more time I spent reading, meditating on, and studying the Bible, the better I knew its author—what He liked, how He wanted me to behave—and the better I became at discerning His voice.

The better I knew God, the greater my love for Him grew. How could I not love someone who loves me as much as God does? His love, woven through every line in the Bible, is everlasting (Jeremiah 33:1)—and nothing can separate me from it (Romans 8:35-39). Wow!

The more I love God, the greater is my desire to serve Him, to do what He wants me to do, what He has called me to do. I serve Him when I develop and use the abilities He has given me for the benefit of others. And when I help others through teaching and writing, a deep satisfaction resonates in my soul.

I am not an accident. My presence on earth is not by chance. I have a purpose, a divine mission, so to speak: to fulfill the unique plan God has for me.

He has one for you, too.