I’ve written some reflections on dealing with unfulfilled desire. It is my belief that we must protect desire (neither try endlessly to slake it or deny it). I will attempt to make posts over the next few days. The first will be a bit about my own personal reflections on living with desire in the age of gluttony. After that, I will try to outline some biblical images related to the topic and ultimately some things we can do to protect ourselves from either despairing or demanding hearts. Here’s some of my introductory experiences… (warning, a little long, I’ll try to keep the next ones much shorter)
I have a confession to make: desire, not cotton, is the fabric of my life. I crave foods, comfortable living, excitement, time with my wife without interruptions, sex, prestige, freedom from illicit temptations (or is it freedom to indulge without penalty?), free time, obedient children, and employment that doesn’t seem like work. Satisfaction is the name of my game. And with 4 decades of experience in achieving at least partial satisfaction, I still find it ever elusive, never lasting more than a moment in time. Even when I get what I want, it’s never enough. One perfectly ripe strawberry is never enough. My wife’s chocolate cake is fabulous, but I always want one more bite. Another handful of M and M’s would be nice. The thrill I get from accomplishments or public praise is addictive but always fleeting. Desire—it drives me and yet its fulfillment eludes my grasp. It offers hope that the next thing will bring lasting contentment. Yet, far too often it brings pain as satisfaction is just beyond my reach.
Being a Christian Doesn’t Quench Desire
As a Christian, I yearn for things beyond this world. I desire to know God, to be so enthralled by his character and presence that my earthly longings are less captivating. I desire moving worship, ah-ha enlightenment from each bible reading, and prayer times that cause me to feel the very presence of my Savior. I covet the experience of Simeon and Anna whose cravings for a face-to-face glimpse of the Savior were fulfilled. Yet, this yearning for the completion of my union with Christ also brings with it pain. I must wait for that day and groan, as did the apostle Paul, while we wait in our tattered earthly tents (2 Cor. 5:2). Waiting means contending with an unabating and agonizing thirst for God (Ps. 42:1).
Though I long for God, I’m caught between worlds. I have a rather short attention span. Only seeing darkly of the life to come, the fleeting joys in this life call for my attention. You see I’m more like Tolkien’s Gollom than I care to admit—a contorted man, torn between a distant good and the desire to have what I want now. Which desire will be my master, “my precious”? This world offers many of us endless choice to satisfy our desires and longings. If you want to get a good sense of this, take a stroll down the aisles of your favorite mammoth bookstore (sipping your favorite specialty coffee of course). Count the number of volumes written to help you discover and maintain a fulfilled life You can have better sex, become one with your inner self, build better relationships, take the most satisfying vacations, build your dream home, become a better cook, etc. Your local Christian bookstore is equally focused on finding satisfaction. Whether you are in sections on theology, biblical studies, or the family, you will see books to help you find what you are longing for: freedom, peace, satisfaction, fulfillment in your family, in your understanding of the Bible, and in your relationship with God. We want all that and so much more. The goods (comfort, excitement, status, fulfillment, etc.) of this world call us to a life of consumption and so we often respond despite our awareness of how these goods have little more substance than a mirage (1 John 2:17).
Surely you have noticed that there is no rest with desire. It marches on unabated, unchecked. It drives you to buy the next thing, to glance at the next attractive person, to seek validation from one more person, or to put your hopes in the next phase of your life while you struggle between resisting and indulging the urge. Whether you give in to your desires or rebuff them, it means you live with an ache.
Living With the Ache
Maybe, just maybe, God wants us to live with the ache of unfulfilled desires. Now, don’t misunderstand me. I do not believe even for a minute that the ache you feel is something to be glorified or to be sought after as a spiritual goal. In its best form, the ache is the reality that we are not at home and in the presence of God as we will be in Glory. You and I are camped on the east side of the river Jordan, in a parched land with enemies to the left, right, and rear. And we long for the day when God ushers us into the Land flowing with milk and honey. We live in the wilderness straining to catch a glimpse of the Promised Land. Like the Israelites, God takes care of us providing all that we need. We have our manna and water, but it never quite slakes our thirst for rest. No, this manna requires faith that God will provide again tomorrow.
In its worst form, the ache of desire emanates from the pursuit of a life of comfort independent of trusting the Unseen for sustenance. Again, I am not saying that our pursuits of beauty, knowledge, peace, intimacy, or comfort are questionable activities. God has made a glorious world, and our enjoyment of his creation gives glory to Him. A beautiful sunset, a fine wine, great sex, a captivating book; all these give glory to the Creator who made each possible. Consider Solomon’s sage advice: So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun. (Eccles. 8:15)
What I do want to communicate about this ache is that the sovereign God who rules this world has placed us this side of heaven where longings are our constant companion. In this state of living, we experience His many wonderful promises and provisions while looking forward for what is yet to come. While his provisions sustain us, they do not ameliorate our desire. If living in constant dependence of the Creator part of His sovereign plan, then our attempts to avoid the reality of the ache is nothing but rejection of God himself.
Christians have a plethora of books at their fingertips to remind them of what God is up to and the joys of seeking God with our whole heart. Without decrying the benefits of books by the likes of David Wilkinson, John Eldredge, and John Piper (they serve to increase my vision for what God is doing in my life), I recognize that as they increase my understanding of God and his character so also do they increase my sense of need for God and of my own inability to find complete satisfaction. Good books have a way of increasing my longing for more.
Yet here we sit. Caught between desire for God and desire for self. How do we live with our desires if we cannot sate or get rid of them? In this age of gluttony, how do we cope with desire? How do we protect our desires from the consumption driven world that demands that we serve our desires at every turn? Just as in the days of Moses, God provides us with his presence and with signposts to reorient our reality. Just as their eyes deceived them (dry, dangerous lands with no sign of water) so do ours. If I do not look out for my retirement; chase the highest paying job possible; if I don’t get married now; have children now…
Let’s consider together how God reveals and responds to our thirsts and how he enables us to flourish on the east bank of the Jordan River while we wait for him to bring us into the Promised Land.
Musings on Faith and Psychology 
Until the modern era, that is, until Luther-Nietzsche-Freud prepared the way, ‘desire’ has been little more than a boo-word for Christian psychology – in spite of the clearest portrayal in the gospels (note NOT Paul and his long line of sexophobic progeny – beginning with Augustine) of ‘orexis’, the appetitive aspect of consciousness under the guise of the three eucharistic miracles – the miracle of water changed into wine at Cana and the two miracles of loaves – to say nothing of the Eucharist itself of course, always and still the dominant performative statement of christian faith. And how could it be otherwise with a god who is identified with love?
This post really resonated with where I am in my life right now. I feel like my life is being controlled by my desires and my choices to indulge them. Another cookie, another degree, another opportunity to push for a raise or a promotion….There is always a little more.
There is a delicate balance that I can not seem to reach. I have no doubt I could be happy if I quit my pursuit now, and just decided to enjoy life. But would I be more happy in the future if I push just a little harder now? After all, I got to where I am now by delaying gratification, working late and going to school at night when most people my age were partying or hitting the town with their friends. Maybe a little more effort, a little more time will make the difference, will make life easy.
It never seems to work that way, though. Each accomplishment opens new doors, to new opportunties and new challenges. Every mountain climbed reveals a higher mountain left to climb. The satisfaction is fleeting because the payoff never immediately matches the sacrafice. A masters degree opens new opportunities down the road, but today, it is worth little more than a pat on the back. That diet I’ve worked so hard on may have shed 40 lbs, but there is still a long ways to go, and the road is so tough. Finances improve slightly every year with every raise, but never fast enough to outpace the growth of the kids. And the time I have for what is important to me – my wife and my children and my God – shrinks with every new commitment, every suffocating assignment.
Then exhaustion sets in, and desire trumps logic. I fall asleep at work or just before the big test. I eat a cookie that will taste good now, but thwart any hope I have of ever getting down to a reasonable weight. I settle in and watch TV with my wife, just for the pleasure of being in the same room with her, even though I could work from now till Christmas and never see the end to the assignments I have piled up from work and from school.
That is what is disheartening – my efforts to do the right thing and pursue my positive desires break me down and leave me fightless and spent, ready to cave to the empty desires I know will only hurt me in the end.