I have a yearning – a yearning for something greater. I realize that the yearning in me only exists because what I do have is not enough. I’m not yet full; not yet content; not yet satisfied.
But how could this be? I think of the victims of the earthquake in Haiti and how so many are without food, water, and shelter – the most basic of needs. And here am I, never hungry or thirsty for more than 5 minutes and sleeping in a warm and comfortable bed every night – and having so much more than these things. Yet, I can’t shake this feeling of emptiness.
My stomach is a constant reminder and illustration of this longing in me. Everyday I eat – not a day goes by that my stomach is not filled with good, nutritious, delicious foods. But my stomach never fails at eventually wanting more. After hundreds and even thousands of meals, it still wants. It yearns. It longs. For more.
And so does my soul. My soul thirsts; even faints (Ps. 63). No matter how well my day goes – at the very end, when the sun is far and the stars are near, I’m yearning for something greater. No matter how stimulating my class or how intimate my time with friends or how sincere the family get-together or how exciting the movie or how successful my work - I end up in the very same place – “in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Ps. 63).
I thirst and no amount of water from my Brita pitcher can quench it. I can practically feel it in a tangible, physical way that I am missing something. This discontentment; this dissatisfaction; this yearning sometimes comes in the form of boredom, loneliness, and even depression. Not being one to like things unsolved, I often ask myself, “What am I to make of all this?”
I don’t yet have an answer to that question as I usually fall asleep trying to answer it only to face it another day. But once in a while, I remember that I’m not alone. I recall that this is not just my problem. I remember that humanity shares this struggle with me. Indeed, it’s been on the minds of some friends who I must thank for sharing on their own blog.
Ecclesiastes says, “He has put eternity into man’s heart.” How does one fill a space of eternity? What does this mean? C.S. Lewis has a great observation in his book, Mere Christianity, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” So what can fill the void? What can satisfy the desire? It is eternity – that is, eternity in another world. Where? Well, not here. The yearning is real. It’s a yearning for another world.
I feel that if there’s anything I am learning as I grow older it is this fact: that no experience satisfies the desire which I find in myself. And that desire is for eternity. It is a void that can only be filled by the one who sits above eternity itself. The Ancient of Days. The Alpha and Omega. The Sovereign One.
O but how in the very moment I come to this realization, I’m struck with an innate and very familiar impulse to rebel. It’s in this place where instead of falling on my knees to lean on Him, I quickly tie my shoelaces to get back in the rat race (definition: an endless, self-defeating or pointless pursuit). I frantically search a barren wilderness (i.e., life on earth) for a spring of living water – the kind that would quench my thirst once and for all (John 4). But I end up settling for mere mirages – cheap imitations of the real thing. Foolishness. Stubbornness. Unbelief. All things I need to be purified from.
So what am I left with? Two choices.
1. Continue in the rat race and hope for the best
- or -
2. Surrender and lay it all down before the only One who can do anything about the void.
Tonight, I rebel against my rebellion as I pray, “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul…” (Ps. 23).
Have you struggled with anything like this? What are some ways you’ve been dealing with the struggle?
For more on this topic, check out Matt Chandler’s sermon series on the book of Ecclesiastes here: The Village Church.







