My wise spiritual director recently told me to keep a record of the longings of my heart and present them before the Lord. The reason is that many of our longings will not be met on this earth, by our husbands, jobs or families. When our longings are just that, empty holes, we kill them in order to not feel the pain and emptiness. But longings aren’t meant to be numbed, and we aren’t meant to be numb people. Anne says it’s important to know exactly what you long for and to tell God about it. He might surprise you by fulfilling your desires at some point, or he might just help you keep those parts of yourself alive.
Lots of stuff is useful for numbing us—alcohol, drugs, busyness, shopping, relationships. I’ve tried them all, minus the drugs. I ask myself from time to time whether I am numbing myself by taking antidepressants. I hate these expensive pills but at the same time I love them. I’m ridiculously grateful that they keep me from falling into deep, dark depressions. But they also keep me from really feeling deep sadness. I mean, I still feel sad, and I cry sometimes, but I don’t feel what I call the sadness of the world, the wretchedness and injustice and loneliness and sorrow that is everywhere. I cannot, of course, begin to really feel that, but I do have the curse of being extremely,unhealthily empathetic. Sometimes I cry for people in nursing homes, or for abused children, or for abandoned spouses. I don’t usually do good things with this empathy though (though I do volunteer at nursing homes or deliver meals on wheels). I just fall into despair. It’s rough. And so antidepressants keep my sadness at bay.
But while that’s valuable, it’s no secret: I don’t want to feel sadness. Even though I once foolishly prayed, “Lord, let me feel everything.” The idea behind that was that I would experience everything in life more deeply and richly. But deep, rich sadness? I don’t want it. I have felt it most of my life—I have done sad. So whether or not I need to stop numbing myself is a matter I will have to think about.
I’m sure of one thing though—we must not kill our longings. I mean, the ones that we hate because we can’t force other people to fulfill them and they leave us feeling pathetically weak. For example, I long for affirmation. You could never affirm me enough because I will always need more. I long to feel beautiful. I long to know my dad’s side of the family who has never been involved in my life and who did not come to my wedding or send me a card. I hate these longings because they are like parts of me missing. Holes, big empty holes.
But, people, please don’t kill them. They are longings for things that are good, some divine. I’m not talking about a God-shaped hole inside us because even when we know God, we still long for many things. But if I take my longings to God, after I face what they are, he can lead the thirsty one to the waters. He will make sure we do not labor for what is not bread. He will keep those parts of us alive and burning. I’m pretty sure longing is part of being fully alive.
Paul talks a lot about hope in his writing. It took me 20 something years to realize that I was not created to keep low expectations for my life. That God created me as a being that was allowed to hold on to hope.
I hope for children despite the forces working against that. I hope for financial security despite the fact that I am a small woman with few choices. I hope for the ability to love deeply despite the fact that I was raised in a rocky and sometimes loveless home.
Hang on to hope and longing. We were weaved and sewn together with hope on our hearts. And because we know we were created by a God who loves us….we know we can at the very least know that hope is rightfully ours. If nothing else.
This post and you are beautiful, A-Bay.
I noticed that this is not the first time at all that you mention this topic. Why have you decided to write about it again?