It's good to be dissatisfied

Navigating the weird in-between of enjoying this life with God while maintaining a deep, unquenchable longing for the life to come

Is it possible to enjoy the gifts that God has given us, yet still yearn more for eternity?

Can we pray and ask for our heart's desires from this life, yet maintain a greater hope and expectation for the unimaginable richness from the life to come?

Tell me. Can we open our hands and hold life's gifts without letting go of the Savior we must cling to?

These are the kinds of questions I have been asking myself recently as I have been wrestling with the desires of my heart.

As a single woman, it’s hard to be content. It’s hard to have a disciplined imagination and not dwell on thoughts of being married and dreams of having a family. It's very difficult to recognize the richness right around me when my heart is singing for “greener pastures.” 

My discontent reminds me of a scene in The Last Battle, the final book of C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia. Fair warning... HUGE spoiler alert.

In the story, the world of Narnia is nearing its end, and those who remain faithful to Aslan are being persecuted by followers of a false god– Tashlan. The Narnians are told that if they enter a dark, foreboding stable, they will face the harsh judgment of Tashlan. To set an example, a group of hard-hearted dwarves is forced inside.

We don’t see what’s on the inside of this shed until a group of faithful followers to the true Aslan enters the stable. And we, along with them, are astonished. Instead of finding darkness or despair, they discover a world so beautiful and glorious they can hardly believe it. As they explore in awe, they come upon the dwarves who entered earlier, sitting in a tight circle, oblivious to the splendor around them.

“They weren’t strolling about or enjoying themselves, nor were they lying down and having a rest. They were sitting very close together in a little circle, facing one another. They never looked round or took any notice of the humans till Lucy and Tirian were almost near enough to touch them.”

The dwarves, though surrounded by beauty, remain blind to it. Their vision is clouded by their embittered, stubborn hearts, and they insist that the stable is dark and dank, even though it is clearly a place of unimaginable glory. Lucy, trying to show them the truth, exclaims:

“But it isn’t dark, you poor stupid dwarfs. Can’t you see? Look up! Look round! Can’t you see the sky and the trees and the flowers? Can’t you see me?”

But they stubbornly reply that they see nothing but darkness. 

I think about this scene a lot because, often, I feel just like those dwarves. How often do I sit in a place of grumbling and dissatisfaction, convinced that I am trapped in a cold, dark shed, when in reality, God’s goodness and beauty are all around me?

In my frustration, I am reminded of the Israelites who too grumbled in the wilderness despite receiving miraculous provision. God gave them manna, but they still longed for the "greener pastures" they remembered from Egypt. Likewise, I also struggle to recognize the richness of the present because I am fixated on what I lack or what I hope to gain.

This realization led me to write a poem:

--

Blind and numb

to the wonder all around;

surely, Your goodness and mercy

truly do abound.

Not just in the future,

not just in the past,

but even now

as You hold me fast.

But here I sit dumbly

in a cold, dark shed,

stubbornly clinging

to what I’ve dreamt in my head.

I have a plan.

It’s the unknown that I dread.

What if Your way is cruel?

What if You have lonely days ahead?

But as I look back,

You remind me,

all that You’ve ever done

was not without Your goodness and mercy.

It becomes abundantly clear;

the truth is understood;

truly You are working all things

together for my good.

These white-knuckled fists

slowly unfold

as my eyes squint to take in

all the treasures to behold.

The abundance of Your house;

the river of delights;

I drink it all in;

how could I miss out on such life?

--

It’s in these moments of dissatisfaction that God reminds me that His goodness is not just for some distant future but is a present reality—His abundance is available to me now if I would just open my eyes. 

So that should be it, right? Blog over. I have this yearning for marriage. I realize there is so much goodness from the Lord in my present state. I should enjoy the now. I can enjoy marriage later. Great. Yearning answered. Check. Done. Carry on. Satisfaction, here I come.

Well, no.

Because then I am met with a harder question… Is full satisfaction in this life even possible? 

Even when my heart’s desire is met and I am with the love of my life? 

To that I am met with an even harder answer. No. Well, it shouldn’t be at least. Not when, my first and truest Love of my life is still gone. Not when my eternal Bridegroom has not yet come for me. Whether I have the marriage my heart desires or not, life without the fully satisfying person of Jesus walking here with me should not be satisfying at all! How can we pleasantly rest in and enjoy this life when we live in the unpleasant reality that He is not physically here? My heart should hunger for MORE.

And I am hungry for more! But my eyes are being opened to just how much that hunger is after what I can get FROM THIS LIFE and not the life to come. As I struggle with dissatisfaction in my single state I am realizing there are– or I guess, there SHOULD BE– far more hunger-provoking, present dissatisfying realities in my Christian walk than a lack of marriage.

I find that I must ask myself: Are my deepest longings for the right things? Am I wholly unsatisfied because I long for life beyond the grave, or because I long for this life to be everything I ever dreamed of? Is my greatest discontentment coming from the fact that Jesus isn’t here or because my future husband isn’t?

So here’s the tension: I recognize that my longing for these dreams on earth is not inherently wrong and is actually good and God-given. But they must be kept in check with my longings for what is FAR GREATER. There must be an understanding that this life, though rich with blessings, is not the end. These earthly longings, whether met or not, will never fully satisfy. Not because they lack beauty or joy, but because they are incomplete without the fullness of Jesus.

In The Last Battle, the satisfaction the children experience is not about entering a place with literal greener pastures but about finally coming into the presence of the One they had longed for all their lives. The dwarves, on the other hand, show us the tragedy of misplaced yearning—living in stubborn pursuit of fleeting comforts, only to be left blind to the greater joy set before them.

Life on earth, as good as it can be, is vanity– here today and gone tomorrow. And if we're really being honest, it’s the moments our dreams become reality that we are in the greatest danger– it's then that we can cling too tightly to the wonderful gifts, becoming numb to the very awesome and real reality that the wonderful Giver is on His way.

So, I’ve come to realize: It is good to be dissatisfied—but not because our earthly longings aren’t fulfilled, but because the longing of our dear Savior’s arrival has not yet come.

I’m not sure if my questions are answered though. Can I still long for a husband? A family in this life? While still keeping Jesus as the greatest longing of my heart? There’s tension in this place. Tension in these questions. But I think that’s how it’s supposed to be. We must always be on watch– guarding our hearts from clinging too tightly to the creation and not the Creator and being honest with ourselves where our deepest yearnings and allegiances really lie. 

“More than watchmen wait for the morning. More than watchmen wait for the morning.” (Psalm 130:6)

Is this how I am waiting for my Lord, Jesus?

“Stay dressed for action and keep your lamps burning, and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the wedding feast, so that they may open the door to him once he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes.” (Luke 12:35-37)

Is this how the Lord will find me? Or will he find me like a child, with my back turned, bouncing my dolls around, contentedly playing with the gifts my Dad has given me with no concern that He's standing at the door?

No. I must remember. This world is not my home. These gifts– both present and future– are not mine to keep. My citizenship is in heaven. And from it, I await Jesus Christ, my Savior. A Savior so glorious and so wonderful that the things of this earth should grow strangely dim– even the good things.. even the BEST things He gives in this short life.

--

So until then, Lord, may I sit with eyes trained on the door, awaiting first and foremost for my Bridegroom’s arrival with a hungry and dissatisfied heart that cries,

"O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” “My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord." —Psalm 63:1, 84:1-2