Let Me Hold These Promises

Lately, I have been struggling with discontentment. It seems that, though I know I am in a wonderful season of life with many abundant blessings to enjoy, I am constantly being wooed by the world or an idea that “everything would be better if—fill in the blank.”

I heard this phrase in a sermon: “the grass is always greener where you water it.” I have been striving to understand why I am always discontent and training my mind to focus on better things—that I may enjoy the blessings I have right here, right now.

In many ways, this is difficult and disheartening work. I have often felt like a moral failure in that I am unable to set my desire to love God and love others above my desire to be comfortable, safe, secure, and self-sufficient.

I stress. I worry. I live in the hypothetical of “what if” or “if only.” But I was recently reminded that while God may not give us grace for the hypothetical, he abundantly gives us grace for the here and now—our present circumstances.

But God directed me to wisdom and a part of an answer—a reprieve of my search. I was reminded of all those who walked by faith in Hebrews 11. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lived as strangers in a foreign country, in tents in the desert, “looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:10).

“All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth” (Hebrews 11:13).

I find comfort in knowing I was not created for this earth. This persistent search, this longing for security and peace, is not a moral failure on my part. 

Saint Augustine says, “The whole of the good Christian life is a holy longing … through longing [God] extends the soul, by extending he makes room in it. Let us long because we are to be filled. That is our life, to be exercised by longing”.

I must admit, to live a life exercised by longing does not sound very fun to me.

I often find myself thinking in the way of, If only I can bring my sinful heart of discontent under God’s rule! Learning the secret to contentment in all circumstances will bring me the peace and security I so ardently seek! I must seek God more! Then I will be satisfied and whole.

But, as it was so kindly revealed to me as I read Hebrews 11, this is pretty faulty thinking. And what a relief! 

Craig Barns, in his book Sacred Thirst, writes, “Every day when Adam and Eve walked by the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they had to remember they were never created to have it all. There is always something missing in life. This is in fact; the mark of a created being, for only God is whole and complete, lacking nothing. The missing part of our lives can either drive us crazy to the point where we lose paradise by reaching for more than we currently possess, or it can become the best altar for our prayers, where we remind ourselves of our dependence on God. When we understand how dependent we really are, we become free to enjoy the rest of the garden, as well as the people inside it, without trying to make them our savior.”

Well, there you have it.

My longings are a holy exercise to lengthen my soul, that God may fill it. And I can be comforted, in a way, to know they will never be satisfied fully in this life, so I am free to stop beating myself up that I have these longings and enjoy the rest of the garden.  I can pray that when my discontented heart tugs at my chest, I will be reminded that I was created for a heavenly kingdom. And until I arrive there, I will always feel as though something is missing.

So let me set before myself—in this present moment, here, now—those things that have been promised to me in this life.

God does not promise to take away my problems, but he does promise not to avoid them. He doesn’t give me an answer to “When will it all end?” but he does give me assurance that I will never be alone.

And let me hold these promises with an open hand, always reminding myself that I was not created to be wholly satisfied on this earth.

“If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:15-16a).

Dear Lord, do not let my holy longings hold me back from receiving your joy on earth as I look toward heaven.


Amanda Adair was introduced to Summit through reGROUP back in 2016. Since then, she has volunteered in BCL and Base Camp, led niceSERVE projects, joined an Africa team, has come on staff as the Base Camp costumes and props administrator. Amanda also plays the harp and piano and loves tap dancing.

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