The Journey of Desire

In much of our Christian experience, we are accustomed to silencing our desire. Much of what we believe, say and do does not help us attend to our longings. And our deepest longings are often filled with what does not truly satisfy, even when it happens within our church communities: utilitarian relationships, activity that drives our compulsions or self efforts to get ourselves into better spiritual shape.

I wonder whether we have listened long enough to the spiritual wisdom that tells us to listen to our longings.

"One can begin one's spiritual quest by attending to the desires of the heart, both personal and communal. The Spirit is revealed in our genuine hopes for ourselves and for the world. How brightly burns the flame of desire for a love affair with God, other people, the world? Do we know that to desire and seek God is a choice that is always available to us?" (Elizabeth Dreyer)

We have a tendency to live our lives in auto-pilot mode, one ordinary day merging into the next. However, God graciously invites our attention when our hearts are pierced either by immense beauty or painful affliction (Simone Weil). At some time or other we all experience moments that we hope would last forever, and moments that we wish had never happened. Such moments awaken us and help us realize that there is much more to life than we could ever dream of.

My journey through the pain of lostness to the joy of being found by my Beloved Lord helped me articulate my deeper longings. I realized that much of what I had chased after in earlier days were just 'fillers' of my empty heart and distractions from what my life was truly about.

The story of the sea lion continues:

"Had you journeyed in those days through the barren lands, you might have seen the sea lion for yourself. Quite often in the evening, he would go and sit upon his favorite rock, a very large boulder, which lifted him off the burning sand and allowed him a view of the entire country.

There he would remain for hours into the night, silhouetted against the sky. And on the best nights, when the wind shifted to the east, a faint smell of salt air would come to him on the breeze. Then he would close his eyes and imagine himself once more at the sea. When he lay himself down to sleep, he would dream of a vast, deep ocean. Twisting and turning, diving and twirling, he would swim and swim and swim. When he woke, he thought he heard the sound of breakers.

The sea was calling to him."

(John Eldredge: The Journey of Desire)