“Use your life to serve the world, and you will find that it also serves you.”
Oprah
This quote could not be more true. The most fascinating thing is that when we set out to serve, we are not looking to receive but rather to give. To help a cause, be apart of something bigger, volunteer in our children’s classrooms and the list goes on as to why we serve. We do these actions for a variety of motives but thinking about what we get from giving is never one of them.
What is so fascinating is that as the years roll by and the service continues, grows and expands so does what comes back. It is hard to see at first, oh of course, there is that immediate warm fuzzy feeling you get from doing something great. There is no better feeling than knowing that you have used your life to make another’s better.
I have served in so many capacities in my five decades and all with different motivations. As a young girl I served because I was told to. As a teen I served because that’s what my friends were doing. In college, I served because it was a great way to meet people and do something nice for someone. As a young mother, I served to make new mom friends and to begin to show and teach my children about giving.
It was only later, when I was overwhelmed with grief, lost and bereft that service healed and saved me. Like a lifeline to a drowning victim, service was there to rescue me as I was going under from grief. Service pulled me from my despair and showed me so many others whose lives were in need. Being able to help families at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles, not only healed my grief but it gave me a new purpose.
Now decades later, it sounds so cliché to say you get what you give but honestly, you get so so much more. My life is beyond abundant, I could have never dreamed this journey. I ask God each day to use me towards my greatest purpose as I continue to strive to serve. It is a privilege to know that you have used your life to make an others better. Truly the greatest gift of all.
Charity Matters.
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I grew up the daughter of a recycler, my dad used to tell us he was a trash man. He began recycling paper in the late 1960’s long before it was trendy or cool to be green. To my dad it was something that just made sense. He came from a generation that fixed everything and threw nothing away and we were taught to do the same. To us we thought it was kind of cool when he ran the newspaper recycling drives at our school and later in life when he was the member of international recycling boards but to my dad he was simply a garbologist.
