The certainty of eventually being Man United's goalkeeper kept me going for 10 years. I had purpose and life was full.

I was destined to be Matt Busby's first George Best while the actual GB was still leprechaun-size in his ma's arms.

Towards the end of this purpose-filled decade, a United soccer scout clocked me in Wythenshawe Park and spoilt things. He was half-blind, knew little of the beautiful game and was therefore unable to recognise one of the greatest soccer talents ever to stand between two uprights. Sir Matt was wholely blameless.

To my knowledge he was never personally informed of my super swooping powers.

Purpose gives life a capital L'. It's what it's all about. Our Designer made us on purpose to be driven by purpose.

Ask most teenagers their aim and the gone-out glaze above goldfish lips hardly varies as they paddle on through their miasma, aimless and grumpy.

We oldies are marginally better. We're scarily and sometimes crazily driven by money, approval, fear, fame, status or resentment.

The Designer tells us, "I know what I'm planning for you I have good plans for you, not plans to hurt you. I will give you hope and a good future."1 "Make love your aim," 2 the Designer patiently explains to a species that's lost in merely making love. "Don't live carelessly Make sure you know what the Master wants."3 Footnotes:1, Jeremiah 29:11; 2, 1 Corinthians 14:1; 3, Ephesians 5:17