Sometimes, searching for something that would give me back the push to start a life with purpose, I would head to a park for hours to feel, in the touch of nature and its sounds, a calm that let me be alone with my thoughts. I wanted to find a message in my mind—one of those signs we believe God will give us in a miraculous or even magical way, if the term fits.

I would take my bicycle and, sometimes, pedal for more than three hours. I came face to face with my reflections and, deeper still, with pain and sadness. Pedaling made me scream on the inside, releasing everything I was feeling.

My mind filled with thousands of raw images. I believed there were many ways to find that spark of life I longed for—that voice telling me, “this is the way; you already have it—organize it and keep going.”

But when I put it on paper, everything turned simple and empty. Nothing seemed even smart enough to attempt. Still, time and again I would start my “creative process,” hoping to reach the point where the miracle would appear.

For days, weeks, and months I took different roads full of forks. Later I would realize they were a maze whose exit left me at the same starting point. I didn’t notice; I kept thinking I was doing something new.

With shame—almost embarrassment—for asking so much in so little time, one day, in the middle of my conversations with Him, I dared to say, unsure of myself: “Lord, help me. I can’t find the way; I don’t know what to do or say. I don’t even know how to ask You, but I need to find that purpose that gives meaning to my life: to move forward without looking back at the pain, to understand what my plan is in this world and whether I truly have a chance.” It was an intimate, life-shaping conversation. I felt that, as before, I needed to let go, trust, and wait.

One night, around 3 a.m., I woke up with a line I couldn’t shake: “There is a part of your life that deserves to be told, but not in a visceral way. Lean into your sensitivity to art and tell something that will impact others who also need to understand your views on life’s hard moments. Above all, express what you feel honestly and transparently: offer inspiration and heal yourself too, because what you’re about to do isn’t only for you; it’s also for those who need it.”

It was a direct answer from God to me. I couldn’t believe it—an overwhelming revelation. I confess that for a few seconds it was hard to accept; even so, there was a fire within me that wouldn’t dim. I sat down to write and to capture every detail of that revelation so I wouldn’t lose a single iota of what needed to be said.

Perhaps, because the experience was so sacred, I felt I might have overstated some aspects of the purpose I was entrusted to convey.

Today, in the midst of building a project I love, I sometimes feel that nothing flows or that obstacles get in the way. When those thoughts arrive, I go back to that night and remember: this doesn’t originate in me; it’s the purpose God planted in me to give me direction. If He is with me, everything will, in the end, turn out as it should. My task is to trust and not lose the momentum that now frees me from pain and from the sorrow of what I lost, transforming it into something greater that lets me empathize with others.

Sometimes we think these callings must be huge—that they will fill public squares and bring fame or recognition. It isn’t always like that. It’s not about size or how many applaud you, but about impact. If we help change a few lives—or even one—for the better, we’ve done our part.

I’ll close with this: whenever we feel like giving up, let’s return to the point where everything changed—to that emotion that told us it was right. Let’s take hold of that feeling and refuse to give up until we reach the finish line.