life making, More and More

They Must Fill

I looked at it. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I didn’t need it. Nor did I even have use for it. I saw the beauty that took up space in my own life, and I knew I was safe.I was more than safe, I was comfortable. I was comforted. But it was so shiny. So alluring. So desirous. And so I looked. And then I wanted. And then I compared to what I had. And suddenly, what I had was no longer so beautiful. But it was there, and it took up space. Over crowded space. And suddenly, I saw my deficiency. I saw my lack. I saw how little I was worth. And I believed it. I became like Eve. And there in the garden I chose my sin. My sin to believe I was deficient. My sin to believe I was worthless. My sin to believe I was lacking. And suddenly, as I looked at it- that forbidden fruit- rather than be so shiny and alluring it merely mirrored everything about me that was without. And I believed the lie, and chose to partake. Because when one is deficient they must fill. And I needed my fill. If for no other reason than to take away the ache. An ache all caused because I indulged a look. An ache all caused because I believed the lie. I became like Eve. The woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate. She ate. And she gave to others, and they ate. I ate. When one is deficient they must fill. And so we fill. With forbidden fruit. With what was never meant to fill. With what could not fill. We become like Eve.

How often have we become like Eve. How often have we looked. How often has it become  delight to our eyes? How often do we take and eat? And we hold and we partake but we are not filled. And it does not satisfy. And we are not comforted. But rather, harassed by the very thing that made us look in the first place. And we are not comfortable. But rather, squirm in our places as we realize we were never meant to be here. And we cannot be ourselves. For ourselves have been overtaken by a lie. Ourselves are no longer good enough. And so instead we compete, and instead we compare, and instead we commiserate. And then, when we realize we will never be enough, and never win this race, we hide. We hide, and we cover.

When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loin coverings.

And all this circles in my mind as I hear little ones laughing in the back seat of my car. They want to throw balls after church. Actually they want to “frow balls”. “Miss Bethany, is that ok? Can we frow balls when we get home?” This is what they ask me. And I become silly and they laugh and they ask another question. And on and on the little ones continue in their ramblings.  I hear them speak to one another. To me. Laughing. Talking. Speaking all sorts of words and nonsense that they don’t even realize they are saying. They are comfortable. And so they speak. To me. To themselves. To the brothers and the sister. They speak out of comfort, not even listening to themselves. And I realize, I want to be like that. I want to talk like that. I want to have comfort like that. I want to have need that needs nothing but presence. I want comfort like that. The kind that is safe, and trusting. The kind that asks questions. Not just doing, but asking. Comfort that has no other need but presence. No other fill but presence. They only need me there. To listen, to hear. My presence is what comforts them. Not the shiny. Not the alluring. Only presence. They’ve been with me time and time again. Years and years. And when we are together, they need only my presence. Let me have comfort like this. Let me be satisfied like this. Let me be filled like this. Let me need nothing but His presence. Let nothing be covered, let nothing be hidden. Let my heart want not what the heart wants but let my heart want what He wants. Let love aches and heart breaks be for the aches and breaks of His heart, not my own. Let me be filled only by Him. Let me partake only of Him. And when I look, let me look on Him.

Genesis 3:6-7

 

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