When being holey hurts...

I’ve used food, fantasy of future relationships – even good things like fitness or family – to fill my hole-infested heart. That is a good term. Because the more I try to fill my heart with cheap, substitutes for Christ - the more holes start appearing elsewhere. It’s as though I’m patching up one hole, just to have another one rip open in another spot because the whole structure of my heart isn’t in good shape.

Now don’t go feeling bad for me, for dealing with emptiness in my heart. Because the good news is that’s exactly why Jesus died. He died and rose again to be our bread of life, our living water, our one and only satisfaction. It’s just taking me some time to actually allow that truth to permeate into all areas of my life.

Earlier this week, one of my housemates commented that I and another young woman have been lamenting over our lack of husband potentials. At first, I was aghast. How dare she say that about me! How dare she lump me in with the other woman, who I even notice talks a lot about her no-man-status. But at second glace, I recognized my housemate was right. Why couldn’t I see that in myself? How had I let my self-talk become so destructive?

Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount gives an explanation. I couldn’t see my own dysfunction of emotions and thinking because of the giant block in front of my face. Jesus refers to this block as a plank in one’s eye that needs to be dealt with, especially before wanting to help someone else. My heart is to bring other women to emotional wholeness in their relationship with God. So, what am I supposed to do to fix my own heart first?

In his commentary on the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew Henry puts it this way:
It is as strange that a man can be in a sinful, miserable condition, and not be aware of it, as that a man should have a beam in his eye, and not consider it; but the god of this world blinds their minds. Here is a good rule for reprovers; first reform thyself. 

Another piece of good news: I don’t need to try and fix or reform my heart on my own. Jesus wants in on the process. I realized that a big part of my reformation must come at the foot of the cross, where I lay down those things I’ve used as substitutions for fulfillment. I must choose to surrender – not because of the hope of receiving back what I’ve given up. (Don’t get me wrong, it’d be nice to surrender my dreams of a family and then get one in the next few years.) But instead, I choose to surrender because in the end Jesus is my all-in-all. The dreams and desires are really just a glimmer of what Christ has to offer.

These less-than-worthy alternatives, pale in comparison to Christ. David writes in Psalm 16:11 that in God’s presence there is “fullness of joy.” And the same “completeness” is promised by Christ himself in John 15:11. Plain and simply, the only true hole-filler comes in the form of a first century Jewish carpenter.

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You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. Psalm 16:11

I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. John 15:11