Longing: What does it want from me? This insistent ache, at night, weighting the chest like an X-ray apron.
This unfocused energy, jangling as a florescent tube on the fritz.
Sometimes vintage dreams from our youth resurface—dreams we buried. Maybe afterward we conjured a mental white-out to shield the soul, preclude further disappointment.
Or we sacrificed personal hopes for family. Career. We made our exit, gracefully or otherwise.
If the old longing remains, maybe it bears reconsidering.
Or perhaps we lost our nerve. Or our faith. (Who were we to ________?)
Now, from the other side of that door we closed, a voice keeps murmuring. What if it’s God?
“Longing, when it is not used for fuel for the spirit, soon turns the heart away from love in the direction of anger and grief.” (Sibyl Dana Reynolds, Ink and Honey.)
Does regret taint our longing?
- If only I’d finished ___, by now I’d be . . .
- If only I’d never ___, I might finally . . .
- If I ate less and exercised more, I’d feel . . .
- If I could really believe/remember/forget____, I would . . .
- If only I paid more attention to ___, I could . . .
Pastor Eric Peterson says, “God calls us to be someone we don’t yet believe we can be.”
Trouble is, regret hampers personal transformation. So I’m making a game of sussing it out.
I picked phrases from the list above, then finished each one 20 times, writing quickly to prevent censoring myself.
As part of prayerful follow-up, I summoned reason. (e.g. Am I really too ____? Are my expectations misguided, ill-timed, or off-base?)
Then (the fun part) I rewrote those pesky If onlys. Flipped each one on its back like a June bug. Then let the ideas buzz.
What ifs provide springboards for joy. Possibility. Scope.
- What if I forgive____ and myself
- Soften expectations and rest more
- Hire some help
- Revisit that project I shelved
- Buy forgiving clothes in fabulous fabrics
Then where might longing point?
“Let your longing lead you, not defeat you,” Reynolds goes on. “Use longing as the blacksmith uses fire to forge iron into a pot or kettle. Make something of it.”
Moving into a calling includes waiting for God’s direction and timing. Good thing “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Waiting is not an obvious talent of mine.
Ebb or flow, longing is fluid.
Check out these ice doilies. Even fragile edges catch light. A spring feeds the neighborhood pond, so it never freezes completely. Water at one end sluices through pipe a neighbor embedded beneath the road, channeling overflow downstream, into the creek.
Despite layers of ice, spring-fed water keeps moving, taking on new shapes, making its way around obstacles.
Meanwhile, I hold steady, faithfully do the small things before me, wait for what comes next.
“Set about your work in the world,” Reynolds says. “Longing asks you to rise up and bring forth your wonders and treasures.”
What wellspring within you seeks an outlet? Are you currently called to rest in the unknowing?
A new artist/writer friend also posted today on “What if.” Find her here: https://kelrohlf.wordpress.com/author/kelrohlf/
beautifully said, thanks
You are so welcome. Thanks for reading!
Laurie, this blog intrigues me. I will revisit it soon and take the time to do as you, by quickly filling in the blanks from the list of What Ifs. This concept of longing is not something I’ve named, I don’t think, and want to experience. Oh yes, I’ve had longings but your expansion of this feeling and its ramifications is fresh. I believe I’ll discover some truths of God and about myself by working the exercise you’ve suggested. Thank you, friend. Niki
Hi Niki. I’m so glad you found something fresh here to ponder and will explore your own list at some point. I found it clarifying. I’d love to hear more about what god shows you if you feel inclined to share via email at some future time. Blessings on you, dear friend!
Laurie,
So special to read this, and also to see that you gave a shout-out to my dear friend Kel Rohlf. I call her my coheart in creativity, and we have designed and led several journaling and art-journaling classes together. She’s a lovely, innovative, and wise soul–like you. And I needed to read this today, because I can too often get mired down in regret ( and yes, even now). If onlys have pierced my soul like arrows. But your post encourages me not to let them wound, but to point to some new direction, like an arrow hitting the bull’s eye. If only I’d done . . . , yet what if I do …. ! I love that. I’ll give it some thought and journaling juice. I’ve read several books lately, and an unexpected common thread weaving through them has been not living in regret. It’s totally a waste of time, they say, and God is a God of redemption and new beginnings. Now what if I truly believed that? What if I lived it? Thank you so much for sharing.
Love
Lynn
PS I wrote a piece sometime back, where I described the loosely falling snowflakes at the lake near our cabin as snow doilies. It takes me back to read that here. A lovely remembrance for me.
Boy, would I love to take an art journaling class from you two. What a team! (I was just perusing Kel’s website art tutorials this morning.)
Sometimes, those regrets seep out of the soul’s baseboards at night, don’t they? May God clear out all the ooze, then help us reframe that inner room where Grace dwells.
Will you send me a link to your snowflake doily piece? I would love to read it . . .
Kel is an innovative creative (no rhyme intended). She’s marvelous, and we have so enjoyed working together. We use both art and journaling techniques for self-discovery and for exploring the depths of what God is doing in our lives. My snow doilie piece was about confession, and there is no link. I wrote it years ago in my newsletter.
Yes, regrets oozing at night. Tha’ts it. And it’s just like the devil, frankly, to bombard us at that time–when it’s dark and we’re too fatigued to fight. But your post grants courage. Thanks, Laurie.
Sorry for the delay in replying. I’ve been in Maui!
I well know that vulnerability in the deep of night you mention here. So glad you were heartened by the post.
And if you and Kel ever travel west with your art journaling discovery class, I want to sign up!
Blessings on you today, Lynne
Thank you Laurie. The longings need to go somewhere either removed or pursued.
Hi Anne, and happy birthday early! 🙂 I know what you mean. Sometimes it feels like a crossroad. I’m rooting for you as you contemplate those choices. And perhaps some things can be replaced later? or simply tabled? picked up like a dropped stitch, at a better time . . .
I so relish your musings, Laurie. You always make me think more deeply. Today you’ve given me an alternate, more poignant name for desire: longing. And with you, I want longing to lead me, to keep me moving along like spring water skirting obstacles, or when called for, patiently stilled in a pool of waiting. And dare I say it with Sibyl Dana Reynolds? “Rise up and bring forth Your wonders and treasures.” I capitalized the “Y” in “Your” in recognition of the Source of any wonders or treasures that might proceed from my life. But the older I get, the more I long to leave wonders of faith and treasures of God-inspired wisdom to the next generation.
Thank you, Nancy. I grew up believing there was usually one right answer, and I didn’t have it. Extending the freedom of alternatives to myself and others—even if it’s only one word—fills me with gratitude. And how inspiring to read those words from SDR afresh with the capital “Y”! Thank you for lifting that from the text for me today. I agree with that longing 100%.
Well, This is timely.
I’ve got a few “if onlys” to rewrite. 🙂
Sandra, I’m glad the idea resonates with you. It sure did me some good to identify regretful thoughts I’ve held for far too long. May you have some fun flipping them!
Wow – to rest in the unknowing! Yep, sometimes that’s the place God wants us. So maybe He can show us how those longings can be looked at like those “ice doilies.” Such a beautiful expression. So what if He wants to bring longings back to life? I guess we have to let Him do it, right? And not let all that stuff get in the way.
I love the “forgiving clothes,” too. I am coming to that conclusion. It’s maybe ok to be who we are. He loves us no matter what, right?
Thank you, Laurie, for a beautiful and thoughtful post. I needed that.
Linda Jo, I think we’ve been listening to a similar wavelength (having felt stirred by your post this week). Are you a knitter? Sometimes I think God points out our dropped stitches, gently brings them to our attention and offers to retrieve them, which tests us: Are we willing to let the yarn be knit back into the pattern? If it’s anything like my knitting projects, this will mean poking and stretching. Or tearing out a few rows. My guess is that, afterward, the garment will fit even better.
But I’m still going shopping for ease-ful clothes this week. 🙂
Ah, thank you Laurie. You are a scribe who finds the words to explain what we can’t find words for. And you take our longing, and make it something to not be afraid of, or guilty for, but to embrace and follow its lead. Bless you.
Ana Lisa, thank you for your expressing it this way—that we can cooperate with grace by letting go of fear and guilt so grace can ease us forward. The word “embrace” is so inviting! I’m smiling now, attuning my ear for today’s opportunities. Thank you!
Enjoyed the insight , regret I didn’t get to read it till now Lol ,,,been pretty busy , overwhelmed be closer to it … but I can appreciate the full meaning and in some instances how paralyzingly it is to progress or understanding .. I have practiced it to a point of it being a religion…maybe now regret will pass away like this nasty winter cold I have cultivated for a month… loved the photographs too…
Larry, hello my friend. Your sense of humor tickles me. I’m sending prayers for peace and healing your way amid that awful cold (what a siege!) and work overload. And yes, here’s to sloughing off old regrets!
So glad you liked the photos. It means so much to me, coming from you.
Oh, Laurie, two things: 1) to see Kel’s name here makes me smile; we met each other on the blogging journey 5 years ago. She’s so very talented and creative–like you! I can see why you connected.
2) this phrase, “Moving into a calling includes waiting for God’s direction and timing.” really resonated.
“Start small, start now” is my mantra for the season, to move towards all God’s called me to be in every area, but particularly writing.
I so appreciate being on the journey with you.
Jody, you’ve made so many excellent connections along the way. You are a Linker—among other wonderful things. 🙂 I’ve been enjoying connection with Kel for a couple months. Loved her posts from their last trip.
That’s a potent mantra and one I deeply respect. It calls to mind Mother Teresa’s wonderful resolve to not worry about doing great things but rather “do small things with great love.” Happy to be one of the many cheering you on, friend.
Thank you for your insightful words. They inspire me to pull my what if’s from inside my head and lay them out on the counter and look at them. There are June Bugs buzzing all over my kitchen this morning 🙂 They are making music! Thank you.
Oh, what a vivid picture that gives me, Roberta, and a huge grin. I’m almost tapping my foot as I type. May that wonderful energy soon take flight . . .
Laurie-I was pondering the phrase what if today on my walk around the neighborhood. How pleasant to find you pondering it in such a joy-filled and delightful way. I was going to blog about it, too! Then I found a photo from a friend on Instagram and she was asking the same question in her sketchbook. I sense a calling to share my perspective on what if over at soulPantry, now 🙂
Hi Kel, how fascinating for me to discover I’m on the same wavelength today with two other Creatives. It’s such a powerful little phrase. I will look forward to reading your post!
Kel, thank you. I don’t even know what a pingback is, lol, but I’m going to google it now as well as visit your friend Dawn. 🙂