My sister and I shared a precious camaraderie. I remember well those whispered secrets, the silent understanding and those times we knelt together in prayer.

Being in her presence was like relaxing under the shade of a strong tree. I felt comfortable and accepted. It was not uncommon to find the two of us walking together down a crowded city street in Sri Lanka, our easy laughter encircling us in a world where all was safe and good.

I’ll never forget the day we went shopping together in the buzzing town of Nugegoda. I waited by the side of the road as my sister entered a fabric shop. I watched the passersby for a few minutes until my attention was turned to a young mother with two small children begging on the roadside.

They were dirty and clothed in rags. The eyes of one of the little girls locked on mine. She ran over to me and looked up expectantly. A bag of candy was all that I had with me, so I handed it to her. Her face beamed with a glow that surprised me.

I was suddenly overcome with the desire to take her home, bathe, feed and dress her in clean clothing. But my desire quickly faded as I got caught up in everyday pressures and responsibilities.

When I was a child, my mother would always tell me that my life was not my own. Instead, it belonged to Jesus. She told me that I needed to ask Him what I should do with it. But I could not understand a God who would demand so much of me.

My inner struggle continued until I discovered that every person is unique to God, and that He knew His plans for each of our lives before He even created the foundation of the world.