You have rolled along believing in a power who controls all and acts upon you. You have inwardly comforted yourself with the assurance that you are adaptable and, with enough power and assistance from above, you can endure wave after wave of what is done to you. It feels so bad - except for the assurance that it was god's will - that has been enough...
almost.
But now, you're not sure it was god's will was for you to be an empty shell on an ocean floor, moved with the waves, or a leaf detached from it's tree, blown from spot to spot, all the while saying only, "Thank you, thank you, I'm grateful." Those things have their own sort of beauty, but first they were a life, a life god gave them, that god delighted in and wanted them to live actively and not passively.
That shell housed a creature once. That leaf sprouted, green and new, on a thriving tree. That life, that purpose, that's what you should be doing and living and building. You didn't know a life was something you get to build. And that's okay, neither did I. I don't think god's angry with our confusion, but I think god's been waiting.
And it's time to begin.