Longings

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

This is another of those beloved passages about God’s provision for us. As I’ve noted in the past couple days, I seem to have fallen into a melancholy or contemplative mood, wondering how I have come to where I am, how I have failed so much in the world’s eyes and my own, but at the same time, how I have succeeded, because I am here, now and, as far as has been revealed to me by God, walking in obedience to the extent that I can, but like so many other people, making excuses when I fail. 

I decided to build the habit of sitting on my back porch for a few moments to commune with God and meditate and took this passage with me. As I considered the idea of His having plans that will give me hope and a future, of course, the first aspect of this is the hope of our mutual future in heaven. That’s an easy one, but there’s a harder and more immediate set of plans. God has commanded us to love Him and one another.

I feel like I keep coming back to the same messages, but this whole idea of loving is so central.  As I sat staring at my tiny garden I prayed for it to flourish abundantly above all I could ask or think. I want to eat from my garden, and share produce with a neighbor and with a food pantry, and I want to store food away for the fall, winter, and spring.  I’m pretty sure that without a miracle, my little garden won’t do any of the things I want it to.  

But as I thought about what is – apart from that miracle – a guaranteed failure, two deep longings surfaced. The first is to serve. I long to find ways to help others and the same sense of my garden’s likely failure describes my sense of failure in service. There’s not enough stuff growing in my either my physical garden or my internal garden to give to others. Of course, I don’t know that’s true. It’s probably not true. The reality is that as I look around, I don’t see needs that I can meet. I’m not looking very hard, but I’m open to God’s leading. The other area of longing that I felt was the longing to be prepared. To preserve food, to know how to do things that that will allow me to serve, to be able to help when and if it's needed.  

As I thought about these longings, what came to mind was the five love languages as described by Gary Chapman. For me, serving is loving. For others, words of affirmation, or spending quality time, or touching, or giving gifts is/are the way to love. And God plans for us involve how we were created (Psalm 139) and how we love. So a longing to do one of these things, especially coupled with a sense of our own failings in their regard, suggests that there is reason to hope, and  points in the direction that will let us move forward.