I keep wanting to know where God is taking me.
Wanting.
Wanting.
Wanting.
In thinking about "wanting," I've come to realize that I have spent most of my life "wanting" things for no other reason than to protect myself from pain.
I "want" her to call me so it doesn't hurt that she didn't call me.
I "want" to be with him so it doesn't hurt that he rejected me.
I "want" to succeed at work so it doesn't hurt to have failed.
I "want" to have a drink so I don't have to feel uncomfortable or bored.
As a result, I have defined myself almost entirely in the context of other people or in the context of objects.
And in the midst of this, I have absolutely no idea what I truly want.
The desires of my heart are a mystery to me.
I have cluttered my life with people and things to make me feel "good" or to help me to not feel "bad."
And, without knowing it, I haven't been living out of who I truly am.
"Lindsey always knows exactly what she wants."
I've heard that so many times.
On the surface my surety and decisiveness looked like a strength. But in reality, it was an illusion, and ultimately, a weakness. It's unfortunate to not know what you want. But it's downright dangerous to not know what you want but still chase after whatever is in front of you with unswerving and hasty confidence.
I've tried to take the reins from God because I've been too afraid or impatient or faithless to let Him drive.
But suddenly, today, a timely answer to prayer . . . I feel refreshingly empty. At least for the moment. Empty of wants. Empty of desires.
Lord, fill me with desire for what You desire for me. Show me not what I want, but what I need. Guide me that I may begin to live, finally and fully, out of who I truly am . . . Yours, and not my own.
