Our longings are made for beauty.
For twelve healing ways to put desire to action, you can download my guide below. I'll explore these ideas more each month.
Sometimes when we come to connect with God in prayer, questions are the only words we can find. The Bible is full of heavy questions God’s children have asked Him in prayer. We may feel shame rise over the queries we have for God. Sometimes I’ve wondered if God is disappointed in me for wondering where He is. At times, I am tempted to pull away from God when I think of my doubts and fears. However, God’s Word encourages His people to do something astounding—and beautiful. “Trust in [God] at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 62:8. When I read this verse, I notice something that makes me feel so light and free. Psalm 62 does not say: Trust in God at all times, O people; quit asking Him questions! Rather than shutting down our inquiries, God encourages His children to pour out our hearts. Scripture takes this act of sharing our raw selves in prayer, and actually connects it with living out our trust in God. It refreshes me to see this in my Bible. Psalm 13 is one prayer that begins with raw questions. “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?” Psalm 13:1-2 God never desires that we would withdraw from him because of the mess we feel inside. If distressing questions are the first words to come when we seek God’s presence, we are still loved by a God who longs to hear our hearts. There are times when trusting God with our messy uncertainties is the best way we can move toward Him. Psalm 13 begins with questions and carries forward still. For two more verses the psalmist petitions God to look upon his troubles, to consider his situation and respond. Then the psalmist remembers the guiding arrow of his internal faith compass that has served him well before—an arrow he knows can be trusted. “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.” Psalm 13:5-6 A heart that pours itself out to God is not despised by Him. To come to God with our questions is often an act of trust. Our doubts are messy, but they are a doorway—and curiously, the doorway can lead toward God. Although, doubt can also lead away from Him. Some time after God split the Red Sea and delivered the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt, they grumbled about God. Their questions sounded like this: “Why is the Lord bringing us into this land, to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little ones will become a prey. Would it not be better for us to go back to Egypt?” Numbers 14:3 Moses, Aaron, Joshua and Caleb immediately reminded the people of God’s goodness. The people responded by picking up stones to kill them. God felt their actions deeply, asking, “How long will this people despise me? And how long will they not believe in me, in spite of all the signs that I have done among them?” Numbers 14:11 God asks questions too. When doubt rises, He longs for us to run toward Him. He waits for us to remember who He is and who He always has been. Mystery sometimes surrounds heavy questions in the Bible. I just know that if our queries can serve as a doorway to move us toward God and His faithfulness, it is good to ask God our questions. Here are a few more questions the psalmists ask of God in prayer: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?” Psalm 22:1 “God why do you cast us off forever? Why does your anger smoke against the sheep of your pasture?” Psalm 74:1 “How long, O God, is the foe to scoff? Is the enemy to revile your name forever? Why do you hold back your hand, your right hand?” Psalm 74:10-11 “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Psalm 77:7-9 “How long O Lord? Will you be angry forever? Will your jealousy burn like fire?” Psalm 79:5 “How long O Lord? Will you hide yourself forever? How long will your wrath burn like fire?” Psalm 89:46 “Lord, where is your steadfast love of old, which by your faithfulness you swore to David?” Psalm 89:49 There is one question in the New Testament that, to me, companions all of our human questions with the greatest love. It’s the question asked by Jesus from the cross. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Matthew 27:46 Jesus intimately knows about our questions. He knows, too, about all of our pain and our trials. “For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” Hebrews 2:18 In light of the cross, the questions and doubts we experience along the journey of faith are among the deepest of gifts we can know. Who knows what good gifts these uncertainties may invite us too? It’s quite possible that our soul-deep questions seek to point us toward the faithfulness of God’s guiding hand like nothing else can.
What we do with longing will shape the course of our lives. It’s essential to consider what we long for—to dig beneath the surface of a wish, and seek to uncover what we truly want. In the words of C.S. Lewis… “We remain conscious of a desire which no natural happiness will satisfy. But is there any reason to suppose that reality offers any satisfaction to it? ‘Nor does the being hungry prove that we have bread.’ But I think it may be urged that this misses the point. A man’s physical hunger does not prove that man will get any bread; he may die of starvation on a raft in the Atlantic. But surely a man’s hunger does prove that he comes of a race which repairs its body by eating and inhabits a world where eatable substances exist. In the same way, though I do not believe (I wish I did) that my desire for Paradise proves that I shall enjoy it, I think it a pretty good indication that such a thing exists and that some men will. A man may love a woman and not win her; but it would be very odd if the phenomenon called “falling in love” occurred in a sexless world. Here, then, is the desire, still wandering and uncertain of its object and still largely unable to see that object in the direction where it really lies.” -C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses , 33. I long for a world where misunderstandings don’t fog our vision. Or, at least a world where that confusion can be cleared up quickly. Yet, life reminds me of a different reality. Bad memories rise. We ponder pain. We worry. Worry stirs fear. Fear clouds judgment. John’s need for quiet is seen as a threat to Jane. Jane’s need for comfort is seen as a threat to John. All the while, they want whatever lies beyond the disconnect. But what does one do with the “want” in the meantime? What do you do with longing in a life where mistaken meanings can carry on for weeks, or a lifetime? Desire is a fire in the dead of a freezing storm. Without it, the cold will thicken your blood and work to stifle the beat of your heart. But, tend to desire with care, or the fire itself may sweep over you with its flames. To tend to desire is the summons of life, and it is a solemn and glorious call. There is longing which keeps the heart beating, keeps a life warm—and helps to warm the lives of others. We keep a fire going, knowing that what we do with longing becomes the kindling of hope. When we remember what we wait for, the slow, steady tending is worth every weary moment. We hope for the day when the cold will be gone, and fires will never consume what is good. “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18). We live for the hope of redemption to come. Bad memories rise. But fear cannot defeat Love, and Love is here to hold and share. Jesus draws close to touch the leper. Love leans close to touch the scars. Pain can turn to imagine a future where each wounded place we meet is an opportunity to Love. More than all we can imagine, our good God can move us with hope. With an eternal dream before us, we can learn a long patience. We savor the moments when warmth is shared. We make beauty with our hands while the fire burns on. We’ll consider what we long for. For goodness is in reach.
Sometimes I want January to feel completely new. But she doesn’t show up to replace the troubles of yesterday. She doesn’t come with smooth, new roads, and old damage erased. Instead, she shows up with a new years’ worth of morning light—to shine on the same rugged lines of a perfectly bumpy life. January arrives with familiar potholes and construction zones. Life’s potholes can drive me mad, but the madness comes with memories. And the memories are bittersweet. A life with potholes is a life where I get to experience things that are broken, and the quaint mystery of moments when we bear with imperfections. On Friday morning, I opened the door to leave for my walk, and the tranquility of the day’s rhythms gave way to a familiar, repulsive stench. A few times a year, chicken manure from the nearby egg farm is spread across the fields. The smell is vile and I wanted to retreat, but my dog noticed my step outside. He wriggled and bounced, his tongue out with anticipation. He’s not contained by a fence or leash, but “people walks” are his favorite. Somehow, his playful eyes swayed me to believe a walk in these conditions couldn’t be too bad. Many mornings, Saucer and I walk the road to the creek bridge and back. That day, I beat Saucer to the creek bridge, and the fields held my attention. They kept me walking farther. I’ve loved this place since I was a child, when the best parts of the year were the days at Grandpa’s farm. I spent years dreaming about these fields. Now I’ve lived here for almost ten years of my adult life—about as long as the egg farm has been here, chicken manure and all. For nearly ten years, the smell keeps coming around. Yet, for ten years, this stench has never made me feel done with living here. What do I know deep inside? A place is always more than its imperfections. The goodness of this place stays with me even when the stench is here. People are like places. I want to believe that. People are always more than the stench of bad moments. How do I look for the “more?” At Grandpa’s farm, when life is imperfect, my old longings rise up and help me see more. The deep roots of an old dream make the troubles seem smaller. I’m sure this is a small glimpse of a larger truth. Beneath the temporary frustrations and quick-fix wishes of today, the soul is pregnant with good, old longings. Our Maker has set eternity into our hearts (Eccles. 3:11). Deep down inside us, we long for what is good. We long to connect with each other in fruitful ways, and to conduct ourselves in ways that do not make that difficult. Deep down, we long to live in a world where our ears tune in to the good in each other, and our lips speak like our Father, who calls good things into being with His words. Somewhere beneath the billows inside me, this is what I long for. When life is imperfect, old longings can help me see more. While the roots of my dreams are shallow still, I’m loved by a God who knows. He meets me with His own longing heart and tethers my soul to Him. So here is a January with familiar troubles. And longings as old as eternity. January can come as she is.