I live, I breathe, I exist by the grace of a God who has called me for a purpose. As my life winds down through it's latter half I find that in searching for that purpose, I may have accidentally accomplished it already.
God may not have had such lofty a purpose for me as I once supposed He did, nor so elevated a place among my fellow humans that I should complain if my accomplishments weren't as grand as I figured they should have been.
Perhaps my purpose was simply to plug up a hole or prop up a pillar at such a time as it was needed. If that's it, I am content that I was there when God required my hands or even, just that one finger!.