I think I have lived long enough to learn, although an ongoing process, that as hard as I seek, no one or nothing but God can fill the hole in my heart. I believe I was born with this hole. Broken at birth.
I have sought after friends, family members, things – consciously and subconsciously. A husband, no matter how loving or a child, no matter how loved can fill this hole, a deep chasm that cries out for fulfillment and wholeness.
I stumble often and again, consistently and constantly, telling myself that just a hug, just an “I love you”, just some extra patience extended toward me – these are the things I seek – the things I long for and that will pour a shovelful of fulfillment into that empty space.
But, they don’t.
It isn’t anyone’s fault. There is no blame to hand off. It is a case of trying to fill a hole made intentionally by a God who wants me to realize He put it there and only He can fill it.
When I stop and recognize that truth, slow down enough to actually dwell on what that really means, I begin to drink of His love, His forgiveness, and His sovereignty. I begin to experience His blessings of fullness and of a beautiful new wholeness.
I find myself setting others free from impossible expectations I have imposed upon them and in the process, free myself. I may have been born into this world broken and in need, but I will leave whole and not wanting for anything.