Winter’s constricting boundaries have finally melted away. I click the thermostat to “off” and then open the windows. Woo Hoo!

My yard’s green strands have finally reached the point of requiring the first cut of the season. After consecutive days of brilliant warmth, followed by a gentle rain, the trees have donned pink and white and rasberry decorating their green clothing.

I step outside and smile as the sweet fragrance of apple blossoms surrounds me on my way to the jeep.

My spirits should be soaring.

Instead, as I drive under sunny skies, my windows down, and happy tunes at full volume — just the way I like it — I notice the ache.

It is . . . a familiar feeling. One I’ve fought to shed a thousand days. Even on joy-full days, it seems to linger in the background.

“What is it, Lord? . . . What is this ache I feel?” 

I don’t hear Him, but a sentence comes into my mind. “It’s a mixture of sorrow and angst and . . . longing . . . a longing for God, for perfection.”

I think about my life.

My husband is working in a different state. I miss him when he’s gone. He misses us all. When I leave to spend time with him, I’m away from home. And the home we own rarely receives visitors due to the fact that he lives away from home. We haven’t had much of a chance to put down new roots. I pack, unpack, adjust my calendar, empty the garbage and the fridge, and restock it more often than usual so things don’t go to waste. It’s a whirlwind.

And when he is home, we pack the weekends so full that there is a sigh when I drop him off at the airport. A sigh because the time passed so quickly, a sigh that he gets to actually rest on the plane — and a sigh that he has to go back to work the next day and live alone for another two weeks.

We talk on the phone every night, but it’s not the same as being together.

So, there’s that . . . and there are the other things.

The miracles I pray for, the things I wait for on behalf of others.

There are also all the missing pieces, the broken places, and the unfinished messes.

It’s as if the globe is a rhythmic clock with seasons of need, outcry, rescue, and relief. Then the cycle starts all over again.

If I were to focus solely on the unfinished or broken things – I might crash, fall into a heap. If I failed to cry out in my need, there’d be a much slower rescue or maybe no rescue at all, maybe bondage would get a tighter grip on me, and then tragically, relief would be sparse to nil. Sorrow would increase, peace and hope would be absent.

Oh . . . but God!

God invites us to cry out to Him, and He loves to show Himself strong on our behalf. (2 Chronicles 16:9)

I’m a melancholic personality, yes, but as an encourager, I’m also prone to look for the best in the hard things.

Granted, it’s taken years of refining my melancholic mind, but life — or rather, God — has taught me hope.

After persevering through a number of dark seasons — seasons of waiting for relief from financial bondage, of hoping for healing from anxiety and depression, of enduring home remodeling messes far longer than I’d ever wanted . . . and the experience of being betrayed, and as a result, suffering loss of home and place . . . I’ve learned to look (mostly*) for the good.

(*Maybe not so much when winter drags on — I might grumble a bit about that still.)

Finding purpose on the other side of troubled times has taught me well – the power of hope.

I champion its essence, for without hope, our hearts atrophe.

And I see the answer to my question through the clouds that have been allowed in my life. Through the heartache, the longing, the uprooting, the letting go . . . and the losses . . . I see the longing in me.

I want to be Home. I long for Eden. I know this is the ache I feel that never leaves.

I long for perfection. I yearn for wholeness — in the world, in my family, and in my own heart. “Hold me, Jesus.”

I don’t know if you know what I’m talking about. I suspect you do. Even if you are a different personality type who doesn’t identify with melancholy or perfectionism, my guess is you feel the ache too.

The desire for wholeness and fullness dwells in our hearts; the longing for perfection is at the core of humanity. 

I think about this for a time. And I consider that we do a number of things to alleviate the ache.

We find our own methods or ways to satiate the longing for Eden that we were initially created for.

• We might strive for perfection in our body image, in acquiring knowledge, or in our successes.
• We might numb with entertainment, with substance-use, or workaholism.
• We might bury our angst in busyness, belonging, or by burrowing into books, living vicariously through characters we wish we were.

But here’s what God is teaching me; I keep experiencing things that lend to me hearing His voice say, “embrace suffering” . . . We naturally try to avoid suffering, and we do whatever we can to get out of it. whether He allows it or He lays it upon us in some way, He calls us to endure. (2 Timothy 2:3)

There is no getting around it, dear friends, we must go through it.

My friend Pennie has MS, epilepsy, and she has lost a son to suicide. She tells us she’s been called “to suffer well” — meaning, she commits herself to the Lord and trusts that He truly IS holding the whole world in His good, good hands. She embraces that there is purpose in everything God allows, and she trusts Him with it all.

My spirit revives as I embrace the truth: the ache is a purposeful part of the life in the dash.

It is in this aching, longing, and angst within our hearts that God comes in with his comfort, hope, and peace. He proves Himself to us in the perhaps customized cycle of need, prayer, rescue, and relief. He helps us know Him as the One who loves and redeems and rescues us.

He builds our faith, worth more than gold.

The angst keeps us clinging to Him, forcing us to hold to hope, cling to His promises, and practice fixing our eyes on the Day of His return. (John 14:2-3)

And on that Day . . . ?

That is the approaching Day the ache will go away. Permanently. Revelation 21:4

For now we are sealed. Then we will be healed!

What a Day of rejoicing that will be!
It will be like no Spring we’ve ever experienced!

Hang in there, friend! The Day is coming!