Reflections on things that matter.
I’ve been missing a lot of things about my life lately. I miss free-time. I miss quality time with people I connect with. I miss rest. I miss research (ready for that post-graduate degree).
But it’s funny, because the things I miss most are the things I haven’t had yet. I miss them, not in the sense that I remember them and wish they were back, but in the sense that I know they should exist in my life and they don’t, and that realization is maddening. I’m told that women go through a mid-life crisis as early as 25 because of all of the life expectations that are “time-sensitive.” Being in a meaningful relationship, getting married, having kids, starting a meaningful career…all of those things should be clearly defined and/or within reach by the time she is 28.
Well I’m currently past the age of 28. Nothing in my life is defined except for the fact that I am a Child of God.
That’s it. And on good days, that alone keeps me from melting down over the things I’m “missing,” but every now and then, I realize how much I want to have certain things, and that those specific things I can do nothing to gain. Those days are the days I’m thrown off of my game. I forget how good God is to me. I forget how he loves me. I forget how he pulled me out of the depths of a soul-eating despair and I fall headlong into another one.
It feels like He doesn’t love me when I think of all of the things I don’t have. I try to tell myself to be grateful for what I do have, and I am grateful. I rattle off a list of negatives that aren’t happening to me. I’m not dying. I’m not sick. I’m not in mortal danger. Then I rattle of a list of positives. I’m employed. I’m clothed and fed. I have my family. These reminders, however, only provide me with momentary relief before I feel even worse. These lists have not filled in the holes. It’s almost like expecting not to be hungry anymore after drinking water. I’m hungry, not thirsty, but the presence of water is supposed to make up for the absence of food? It doesn’t.
And because it doesn’t, I feel ungrateful, but I feel like I can’t help it.
And I want to believe that God is good, and that he will fill the voids. In fact, I can believe that he WILL, but I can’t stand the fact that he HASN’T YET. It’s my hang up between the present lack and the future supply that drains me.
This is where I live.
Abraham, how did you do it? “Who against hope believed in hope…” I want to believe in spite of the pain of present lack. I want to believe.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.