I have a hole in my heart. I keep trying to shove things into it, but nothing fits. Nothing works.
The more I try to shove stuff in, the more I realize nothing goes into the hole. I end up feeling raw and hurt from trying to cram things where they don’t belong.
I am left to ask: What do I hope for, more than anything else in the world?
Sometimes it feels like the answer for that question changes every minute.
When I get home from work, more than anything else in the world, I want to eat a half-cup of peanut butter.
When I see a mom pushing a toddler in a shopping cart, suddenly I think my life would be better if I could be her.
When I see the Instagram couples posting cute couple-y pictures together, yeah, you know what I hope for. I just want a dude to take pictures with -I’m not picky- I don’t care if they’re Instagram worthy.
But then I eat the peanut butter, and in an hour I’m hungry again. I’m always left hungry, and empty, and hoping for something more. My appetite is never satisfied.
That’s a word I really want, right there. That’s what I’m looking for deep down inside.
How in the world am I ever going to be satisfied, though? Nothing works. Nothing fills the holes in my heart. The emptiness keeps coming back. I’m so tired of looking for something. I just want to be satisfied. I want to be whole. I want to be complete.
“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; My soul thirsts for you; My flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”
That’s it. That’s the emptiness I feel. My soul thirsts. My flesh faints. I feel like I’m dying of thirst. There’s nothing to satisfy. There’s nothing to fill me up and quench my thirst.
I never thought of looking for God like that though. When I feel emptiness inside, is it really Him I’m looking for? Does HE ever satisfy?
“My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food”
The dude who wrote that found satisfaction. He even said it was satisfaction like the kind that comes from eating rich food.
I’m pretty sure he must’ve been thinking of peanut butter.
But where did he get that satisfaction from?
“…when I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night;”
How in the world do I meditate on Him in the watches of the night?
In the late parts of the night, I need to remember who He is to me. I need to start with the fact that He is my A- Advocate, B- Best friend, C-Comforter… and go until I think of something that starts with Z.
It describes who He is in the next part, “For you have been my help and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.”
Then it says this, “My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”
He upholds me.
He knows that I’m hurting, and hungry, and oh-so-tired of being disappointed. He knows I want to be satisfied. He knows how thirsty I am. And He upholds me through all of that.
But what about being satisfied? How can I stop getting hurt from the cramming and shoving? My heart is so tired of it. It wants to be satisfied by something that is real; something that lasts.
“Because your steadfast love is better…”
Wait. His steadfast love is better than what? Kids? An Instagram-worthy guy? Peanut butter? (Even the crunchy kind?)
“Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.”
His love is better.
His love is even better than life.
What is it I should hope for, more than anything else in the world?
His steadfast love.
It’s the only thing that fills.
And it really does work.
His steadfast love satisfies me.
And it even satisfies me better than peanut butter.