Well friends,
I have a little update to the last post (the one where I bemoaned the waiting on my MFA decision), and it is good news. Fantastic news, in fact. I was admitted to my top choice program at Drexel University! I’m ridiculously thrilled about the opportunity, and incredibly grateful, too. But I have to tell you, receiving the decision set me to pondering this past week.
This entire process, from the discovery of the program to dreaming, applying, waiting, and hearing the outcome, was a bit angsty. When I first read about Drexel’s MFA, beyond the many pragmatic reasons I was drawn to it, something about it “felt” right. That seems like such a willy nilly thing to say…but sometimes, “a feeling” really is a thing. And though the odds seemed slim, from the moment I decided to apply, a desire was planted in my heart…and along with it a level of unrest. Until the answer came, that is. After that, peace settled again.
This bothered me a bit at first; it seemed to be peace from circumstances rather than from Christ. But a verse came to mind: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life” (Proverbs 13:12, ESV). That was a bit of my experience these past two months. A hope deferred caused disruption in my heart. As the verse implies though, I think it’s rather the human experience when we’re waiting on something.
Thinking about hope, I could hear snippets of sermons in my head about the way we are prone toward its misplacement. Perhaps the longing for—fill in the blank—becomes a bit too ardent. We set our hearts on something that becomes a little too precious. Our hope should be found in Christ alone, shouldn’t it? We find our rest and fulfillment in Jesus. Isn’t He enough? asks the preacher in my head.
But what about when the desire is a godly one? A desire planted by the Lord? Just because the longing may not be for Him (per se), the longing could be for something from Him. Perhaps this is the trickiest heart maneuver of them all. God plants something good in our heart, and the temptation comes to focus on it rather than Him…I suppose we call this idolatry.
We are sternly warned against idolatry in Scripture, and I don’t make light of its dangers. We are prone, so very prone. In fact, Calvin referred to the human heart as an idol factory. A sobering thought, and anyone who has wrestled with his own sin nature can attest to its legitimacy. Yet I’d like to suggest something that brings a bit of grace to the conversation.
When desires come, that in and of themselves are wholesome (and that stem from the hand of the Lord), isn’t the suitable response longing? The gifts God extends to us are glimpses of His goodness, His generosity, and His care for us. Our affection for the thing may become misplaced, but it doesn’t change the fact that the original longing pointed us to Him. And what’s more, there are lessons to be learned as we wrestle with our desires, perhaps especially when they are fulfilled.
The reality is, as Christians, we live in a constant state of longing. We are waiting and hoping for the day we see Jesus face-to-face. We are exhorted to find our rest in Christ now…Come to me all you are weary and heavy laden…but it’s also clear, we are waiting for a fullness that will not come this side of the veil…for the creation waits with eager longing. We are waiting for the day when we will know fully, even as we are fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12).
This makes hope our constant companion. Hope exists because a longing is unfulfilled. We live a dichotomous truth as believers. We’re instructed to strive for rest in Christ, and yet we groan for the full rest. We won’t wrestle with these dichotomies out of The Shadowlands. We won’t long. And on this side of heaven, as we hope and wait, we are apt to find myriad places to displace our longing. Even when the initial desire is godly.
Yet I think in God’s mercy and kindness, He uses even this. When God answers a wholesome desire of my heart, even when I’ve struggled to wrestle it into its proper place, I experience a little taste of fulfilled longing. I get a tiny glimpse of how incredible the fulfillment of my deepest longing will be. If I allow it, it can tutor me to anticipate with joy the day when the greatest desire of my heart will come to fruition. Instead of condemnation reigning, I can let the lesson instruct me, and give me greater expectation for heaven.
I’m delighted to look ahead to this new MFA adventure, and yet God has reminded me that every desire fulfilled this side of glory pales to seeing my Lord face-to-face. So, if today you find yourself in a similar place, the place of unfulfilled longing and struggling to find rest in Christ…strive toward it, yes, but be not condemned. We haven’t come to the place of fully knowing. And when the hope is no longer deferred, whether a gift received on this side, or the greatest Gift on the other, it will be a tree of life.
Because God is gracious, and His mercies are new every morning.
Congratulations on your MFA decision. Hope abounds. We can feel God’s presence in our decision making.
Congratulations on your acceptance to Drexel and thanks for subscribing to my Substack! There is definitely a need? place? demand? for thoughtful Christian writers. I wrote a novel during the program and it is imbued with a seeker’s take on spirituality and Christianity. Good luck!