The Ache

I don’t know if everyone has this, but I know a lot of people do. You feel it down in the middle of your stomach, but it has nothing to do with your physical body. Rather, something in your spirit knows there’s something important missing...and it aches in a very profound and personal way.

Perhaps for you, it’s the knowledge that you grew up without a real father in your life. Perhaps you’re single, and there’s a loneliness that even the best of friends can’t quite fill. Perhaps you long for a child that for whatever reason you aren’t able to have. Perhaps you have a physical limitation that keeps you from doing what you sense you were made to do.

As I ponder this, I believe the ache is close to grief, but not exactly the same. Grief comes through loss of something you’ve had. The ache is connected to something you don’t have. But it’s also not the same as jealousy or coveting or lust. Those are longings for something you really have no right to desire. The ache, on the other hand, is the result of something God designed you to have...and then has not provided it for you.

People respond to this ache in various ways. Sometimes it draws them into deep self-pity. Sometimes it becomes an excuse for various bad behaviors. Sometimes it festers into an obsession to ease that longing through whatever distraction or drug is available.

Or the person may work very hard to convince themselves that they are fine, that they really don’t need this thing. There are times when the world around them also encourages this option. A good example is the current campaign to make us believe that singleness is just as fulfilling and wonderful as marriage. However, this often just adds guilt to the ache: “Why can’t I figure out how to believe this?”

The Christian solution is usually some version of learning how to let Jesus be everything you need. This sounds very wise and biblical. The only problem is, again, it doesn’t exactly work. Adam had perfect fellowship with God in the garden—and it was God Himself who pointed out that wasn’t enough. It was not good for man to be alone.

Interestingly, the Hebrew word for ‘good’ is a very rich word. It means agreeable, pleasant, valuable, happy, kind, beautiful, loving and righteous. In short, it’s an expression of the nature of God Himself. We who are made in God’s image are therefore made to somehow experience, in smaller measure, God’s own nature. No wonder we ache when we find ourselves missing that which was designed to bring that goodness into our lives.

So what are those of us who ache supposed to do? Often we take it upon ourselves to remove the pain by doing what I call “arranging our own blessings.” This process is described quite clearly in Isaiah 50:10-11.

Who among you fears the Lord? Who obeys the voice of His Servant? Who walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord and rely upon his God. Look, all you who kindle a fire, who encircle yourselves with sparks: walk in the light of your fire and in the sparks you have kindled—this you shall have from My hand: you shall lie down in torment.

In other words, when the darkness in our souls become too much to bear, we are tempted to light little fires of our own making. God allows us to do this, but He also arranges things so we are not truly satisfied—and in fact, we may even find a new measure of ‘torment’ as a result.

The message is clear. In our darkest hours, when the ache becomes overwhelming, we are told to trust God. But rather than seeing this as some sort of abstract idea or worked-up emotion, what it actually involves is something deeply spiritual.

First, of course, it means that you have to have a real relationship with God as a Person. If your God is simply someone to pray to when things get hard, but otherwise is unnecessary, you don’t really know God. If your God is someone who would never let you suffer, you don’t really know God. And if your God is anything other than the most important person in your life, that will limit your ability to fully trust Him in the darkness.

You see, trusting God is actually a very hard thing to do. It’s something we can only learn gradually, one incident at a time, where we make the decision to accept our circumstances as His will, even when we don’t understand...and we discover as a result a little more about His faithfulness and caring. And specifically with regard to the ache, we need to make the decision that in spite of our very real pain, we can accept that God has chosen this for us—and that His choice is best.

In other words, we need to tell God we are willing to let the ache remain unless or until He chooses to remove it. This doesn’t mean we can’t weep in the darkness. It doesn’t mean we can’t express to Him our honest confusion and weakness. And—listen carefully—it also doesn’t mean that He will never lead us to actually take some steps to relieve the ache. What we must not do is decide we’ve waited too long, that God isn’t going to do anything, and thus we’re going take matters back into our own hands.

When and if God eventually does lead us to do something, there will be a unique sort of peace. We will accept that if things don’t work out the way we expect, we can come back to Him without bitterness or discouragement, asking if perhaps we didn’t understand Him rightly, or if He had something else in mind with the leading He gave us.

I sometimes wonder if God gives this sort of ache to those individuals He desires to be close to in a special way. That’s because the ache, like grief itself, either causes us to doubt His goodness...or it makes realize how very much we need Him. And as we truly discover His sufficient grace, not to remove the pain, but to strengthen us to bear it with grace, we begin to understand that this life is not intended to be heaven.

There’s a certain word in scripture we rarely pay much attention to, but which I believe is central to why some of us are entrusted with the ache. That word is hope. Hope is what connects us to eternity in a way nothing else can. We usually limit it to hoping for things in this life, which is understandable. But God would have us stretch our minds and hearts toward that day when everything we are created to be will in fact be made real and complete. And when that day comes, we will look back at the ache...and we will then understand how, in God’s perfect plan, it was truly His wise and good gift.

“I know, O Lord, that Your judgments are right, and that in faithfulness You have afflicted me.” Psalm 119:75