Facing our Longings

For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light.

- Luke 8:17

I had been writing and reading and networking since breakfast. It was mid-afternoon when I suddenly looked at the clock and felt wide awake. If I was going to walk, it would be now or never.

A storm was coming in.

I shoved my feet into my shoes, tying white laces over white socks, sprinting out the door and down the stairs with hair flying. I did not even take time for a coat.

The wind hit me like a wall. I could barely walk. A slate gray sky stooped low. Small, scalloped clouds escaped from it to roll over tree tops. All was movement and I was moving with it. Earth was rolling under this force bending it like a bow. The gale was a near roar in my ears. Overhead, pine boughs looked like they would snap in two and crash down on my head.

At any moment, it could all break loose. We could come undone. I walked against and in spite of it, tense and exhilarated. To be so near, yet not in the storm was a kind of glory. I was tempted to lie down along my path like a child, to see if I could press my ear to the ground and hear thunder roll.

But I could only keep going like this for a short while. Half an hour later, I headed back for the door. Before long, I needed a nap. Pushing against a thrashing wind is extremely tiring. All the while, I could not stop thinking about our chats on longing. I even dreamed of it when I dozed, back inside, out of danger.

Entering a journey into longing can be a lot like walking against an incoming storm. It's nearly impossible to talk about longing without talking about our sorrow, sin, and uncertainty.

Longing can be a fearful place. The first time I admitted to myself that I had any unfulfilled longings, which I didn't know would ever be answered, I was terrified. I was not sure I could open myself to it and not come undone.

I thought my hunger would swallow me up.

Have you ever experienced anxiety over admitting how you felt about something? Or do you know someone who has? Why do you think we might be intimidated, even terrified of examining our longings?

If you would like to write about facing your longings at your own blog, I'd be happy to insert a link to your post below. Just put a link at your own blog, so readers can find our discussion here, too.

• Kelly Sauer: Tornado