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ItÕs been years since anyoneÕs asked what I want for Christmas. If it
isnÕt on the Home Shopping Club, Mamaw doesnÕt see it. My brothers are
preoccupied with playing Santa to their families and my parents probably think my
tastes are too hard to meet. Sometimes I wish I could climb on SantaÕs lap
again, thinking he cares, believing he can deliver anything. IÕd probably whisper
in his ear the desire I never wrote on any wish list. I want a perfect
relationship.
For years, I thought this hunger was related to my singleness, that a
knight in shining armor could make it disappear. IÕve since learned the longing
has nothing to do with finding a husband. Married friends cry in frustration
with their mates. Older friends miss grandkids they thought would be nearby to
grace old age. Parents watch their children suffer because of what they did
or didnÕt do, or children disappoint parents by growing into someone new.
Significant others whoÕve shared our lives fade from view, with carrying a list of
all the ways we failed them too.
DonÕt get me wrong. I know there are good relationships. But even when
kindred spirits do meet, the bond they forge is temporary with separation
inevitable. The circle turns, and we reach out to embrace, to fogrive, to ask
forgiveness, but often find people have moved beyond our grasp, outside our
sphere of influence, leaving us with lessons learned too late.
In The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis addresses manÕs hunger for the perfect
relationship. ÒYour soul has a curious shape,Ó he says. ÒIt is a hollow ...
in the infinite contours of the divine substance.Ó In other words, thereÕs
a hole in manÕs heart, a God-shaped space that Divinity created, that only
Divinity can fill. No human being, no matter how wonderful, can take away the
longing.
But God can.
The Power that hung the stars in space, that set Earth in its spin; this
Being who wanted someone to commune with, and so breathed life in dust to make
man, this Being who stopped at nothing to reconcile us to him stands waiting
with open arms, offering us the perfect relationship.
Think about it. HeÕll forgive us anything. HeÕs just and fair. He
knows what we needÑheÕll give us what we need. He will always, always be there.
As hopes, loves, lives or even nations crumble around us, we need not
despair. Our Father is in charge.
Though limited by the tangible, we can see him at work every day ...
witnessing his power as the seasons change or as the tide rolls away. When we
release our lives to him, he can work in us, too, turning us into instruments of
light, reflecting his love and peace; until finally this imperfect life is
through and weÕre welcomed home, into the dazzling purity of his perfect goodness.
The adult in me knows that Santa doesnÕt deliver and that fairy tales
donÕt come true. And while IÕve hated filing those myths away, itÕs really OK;
because a childlike wonder is reemerging in my battlescarred heart, in
recognizing a perfect Father, who knows everything, can fix anything and showers his
children with love far greater than man can imagine.
The more we rely on God, the more we learn of him, the more our lives can
be what he intends. The transformation may not occur overnight; whatÕs
critical is that each day, we let it begin again.
Paul addresses this process of release and growth in Philippians 3:
ÒBrethren, I count not myself to have apprehended; but this one thing I do,
forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto those things which
are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in
Christ Jesus.Ó
True happiness has nothing to do with finding mates or healing our flawed
interactions with people. Our Creator put us here to have a relationship with
him. Until we let go of all our imperfect dreams to reach out for that,
nothing really works in our lives. Once we do, nothing else really matters. |