Devotional Archives -- Desires

January 5, 2004--

The Longing for Community

It was a fall of discovering my deepest longings. It began in the spring when God called us away from our church family. I resigned my part-time job there, not knowing that my husband’s job would come to an end the next month. Before we had time to find work or a new church my husband’s father suffered a heart attack. We drove miles to be with family and spent a month watching my father-in-law die. We came home with broken hearts to face no income, no church family, a pile of bills, and a broken freezer full of spoiled meat.

After such a hard time, I guess I expected the Lord to ease things that fall, but as October’s leaves dived to the ground, my emotions swirled with them into lifeless discouragement. In the midst of such pain I craved a strong church family to support me. Little did I know that the Lord was taking me on a journey to awaken my heart. There were areas of it that I had shut down—longings I suppressed, desires I ignored—all in the name of holiness. Or at least in the name of survival. God wanted my heart to be awakened—alive to Him. That included being honest with my dreams and desires.

The Lord probed into my deepest longings, including my craving for a church family. As He revealed the desire I embraced it, only to find doors slamming all around me. Week after week we’d try a new church only to return home discouraged and lonely. Was there no place for us? I wanted a church with deep friendship where hearts for God opened, shared, and grew. My children grieved their friends, the music, and the children’s classes of our old church. I searched for a place that embraced the grace of Christ and made me feel safe enough to share my aching heart.

I pressed on, following His call to embrace the pain instead of suppressing it. Slowly He revealed a deeper desire—the desire for community with Him. He pointed me to the perfect community He experiences with his Father and shares with the Holy Spirit. He invited me to live in community with Him. I heard His prayer—“Father, make them one, even as You and I are one."

These days, I’m finding that as I look first to His community I am given the grace to develop the community I seek with fellow believers . . . but first things first! How can I have deep, trusted community with others until I come to know the perfect community of the Father? It is only in the community of His fellowship that I am treated with such loving care that I receive the courage to be vulnerable with others. It is only by fixing my eyes on the perfect community He lives in, that I can even catch a glimpse of what true community is.

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January 12, 2004--

A Heart Alive

November brought visions of community, piles of good food, and homey warmth. I accepted the fact that we had neither time nor money to travel to be with extended family. I dealt with the fact that the family who lived near chose to attend gatherings on the other side of their family trees. I embraced the joy of having my mother-in-law in town and prayed we’d all survive this first Thanksgiving without my father-in-law. Eagerly I invited some friends over—a family like us, who had no one in town to share the day with.

As I longed to let my heart come alive I found a craving for a beautifully set table—matching glassware, my grandmother’s china, a new table cloth in the warm browns and greens of Thanksgiving, and a centerpiece with round, orange pumpkins. I wanted to bring beauty into my grieving world and to share beauty with my family and friends.

I knew I couldn’t afford my dream, but it grew within me. Determined, I made a trip to the second hand store. I fingered the used linens. They would create just the ambiance I desired. I carried my selections to the cashier and my eyes widened as she rang them up. The extravagance was too great. I couldn’t even create my dreams at the second hand store. I went home and collapsed into heaving sobs. My wavering faith vacillated between accusing God of abandoning me to clinging desperately to Him.

I struggled. Killing desire was self-preservation. I wanted to be real—to know my longings. I prayed He would show me how to keep my heart awake in times of pain and disappointment. At one point I wrote in my journal. “My real self, the life I am meant to live—a soul alive that awakens beauty in the hearts of those around me—that life—that me—disappears when I enter self-preservation."

Even today, two years later, it often feels much easier to pretend I don’t have need than to enter into painful moments. I get tired of hurting. I get tired of being still before God and allowing Him to reveal the deeper longings of my heart. 

Sometimes killing my heart isn’t such an obvious choice. It happens gradually as commitments, disappointments, and busyness creep over me. Then one day I wake up and realize that I’m just surviving again, not really living.

This happened just last week. God used the writings of John Eldredge in the book Waking the Dead to send me looking for my heart again. Eldredge challenged me to ask God what He wanted me to do to care for my heart. This time the answer was simple.

The Lord sent me to spend a glorious October day at the park with my children. We blew off most of our schedule and I sat, watched them roller blade, and thought about nothing while the warm sun washed over my face.

Have you thought recently about the things that touch your heart my friend? What is it that makes you feel alive inside? What opens your soul to experience God’s beauty? Ask Him to show you and then embrace His answer. Taking care of your heart is never wasted time.

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January 18, 2004--

What Makes Your Mouth Water?

It was time for COSTCO's annual display of chocolates from around the world. I imagined the taste of raspberry centers surrounded by rich dark chocolate. My mouth watered as I
walked COSTCO's aisles seeing the chocolates perched between other holiday wares. I paused briefly, then to the dismay of my children and my own heart, I twirled my shopping cart toward the toilet paper aisle.

There it was again. The desire seemed simple enough—but there was no money. Even the flour and toilet paper brought more debt. I drove home with an empty ache. I’d admitted
another desire only to have it fly in my face. It seemed such a small thing—but even small things can be big when piled on top of each other.

I didn’t tell you in the first three installments of SoulScents the magnitude of all we were dealing with. I mentioned that we’d left our church and our jobs, had little money, and then lost my husband’s father. Added to the grief was the serious illness of a loved one, and the
divorce of my mom and step dad.

Later that year I realized why our financial stress felt so great. In that year our income was only $10,000, most of which was earned before that fall. Now, if we lived on a
farm in the Dakotas we could maybe find a way to make that livable. But we live in a big city where the cost of living is high. Furthermore, my husband and I are raising four
wonderful children, which means four growing bodies consuming amazing quantity of foods and constantly needing new shoes and jeans!

When I talk about little things, like the lack of scented lotion or candy, it seems so trivial—but it was the cry of a heart that was experiencing much lack. Loss of loved ones, loss of job, and loss of Christian community crowded upon me. There were other things pressing upon me—things too deeply personal to share here. 

I spent much time that fall curled in our country blue recliner with my Bible and journal open on my lap. It was during one of those times the Lord spoke to me about the candies.

My mouth watered. I could taste the bitter sweet of European chocolate. “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” His presence flooded me as my heart leapt within. I searched my concordance for the reference of the scripture dancing through my mind. I found it in Psalm 34:8 “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.”

These first several devotionals on my longings for Christ are not written to make you feel sorry for me. I am intensely grateful for each lack I felt because I don't think I could have really discovered the deepest cry of my heart, the cry to know more of Christ, if I hadn't walked this road.

It is so easy to enjoy the goodies in life and never find the best in life, Him. I believe God wanted me to truly know my heart and the only thing that would satisfy its longings. He used circumstances to reveal Himself to me time and time again that fall.

My longing for fancy chocolates exposed my raw hunger for the only thing that truly satisfies the taste buds of my heart—Himself. Is your mouth watering yet?
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January 26, 2004---

Reflecting the Sparkle

  It was a season of lack and a season of fullness. God was teaching me to look for Him underneath my desires. Materially, there was much lack (as an American can know lack), but spiritually there was plenty. 

As the Lord peeled back the layers of desire to reveal Himself to me, I walked forward in the joyful knowledge of His personal attention. I'd stand at the store, wanting to spend indulgently. "Spend yourself indulgently," He would whisper, "for whoever loses his life for my sake will gain it."

I would sit at the computer, my fingers aching to create beauty. I longed to produce beautiful words, flowing together in a rhythm of their own. "You are my letter," He gently reminded me, "written that all my see and believe."

As I stood on wobbly feet, trying to learn to look underneath my longings to discover the desire for Him, another hurt was hurled at me. Someone came into our home and took most of my jewelry—much of it had sentimental value. Hurt and angry, I faced another loss. “How could you, God?” I asked, stomping my feet inwardly. “How could you let them do this, especially now?”

I searched my Bible for comfort and found new meaning in His admonition to store up for myself treasure in heaven instead of on earth where thieves could break in and steal. When I calmed, I asked God how I could be content with my circumstances and keep my heart alive in the midst of disappointment. How could I see Him in the loss of my jewelry?

I probed my desire to wear pretty, sparkling jewelry, searching for a desire of Him. I found that my deeper desire was to be truly coordinated and put together on the inside—beautiful where it counted. I felt weary of the fight to overcome inner ugliness. I wanted my private actions and thoughts to match with my faith, my words, my writing—my public self. I wanted to act pretty. I wanted my eyes to glow.

"Lord," I whispered, "I want to sparkle with the beauty of You. If you put that inside me, thieves can't steal the shimmer."

Each morning as I dressed I reached for jewelry that wasn't there—and I turned away. There was still a slight ache, but most mornings God replaced it with a song. As I finished my morning toiletries I hummed, "Lord, you are more precious silver . . . and nothing I desire compares with you."

What lack in your life reveals an aching longing? Would you join me on the journey to find your truest desire, the desire to know God, underneath each want?

Lord, You are the only thing that deeply satisfies. Reveal Yourself to me as I am honest about my desires. Teach me to join with the psalmist who longed, most of all, to gaze at Your beauty—and as I focus on You, remake me to reflect Your sparkle.