You know the feeling of deja vu, you
entertain a faint memory something
that you think happened but it’s out of
reach, too difficult to put into words,
kind of like a hazy Saturday afternoon,
empty and unproductive—the warm
sun is peeking through your blinds—
saying hello! Reminding you there’s
life to be lived, but you’re too lazy/
exhausted/uninspired to reciprocate
(Even though, perhaps, all of you
Longing. What even is longing? A
desire unfulfilled, an aching
in the cavity of your empty soul, a
“how I wish…” that gets cut
too short, because you can’t find the
words to end it, there’s just too much.
It’s an anxiety that pushes you up
against the glass, to peer
into the infinitely grander possibilities,
but you just can’t open the door.
You’re this close—you’re almost there.
Just a little closer! But you can’t reach.
So much frustration, so much despair.
You can try to numb it. Another show,
another snack, another something.
But even after you’ve applied the vain
novocain of denial, it’s still there.
Gnawing, gnawing, gnawing. Always
gnawing (it’s not enough. you aren’t
enough. there is something more, i
promise). The whispers, though
artificially silenced, cannot be drowned
out. That familiar
unfamiliarity, that easy
uneasiness—that, “perhaps this isn’t
quite what you were made for?”—will
You want to actually experience the
faded memory of your longings, your
heart longs to rest in fulfillment. But
you just can’t. Always reaching,
reaching, reaching. But you never
quite make it.
Just maybe, the wholeness you ache
for, the rest you can only dream of, is
really within reach. What if it is there?
What if it is only stepping into the
sunlight, just accepting the warmth
that has been waiting for you—calling
for you to come enjoy and delight—all
You can search, you can strive, you
can try all you want. But, the truth is,
no matter what—
“our hearts are restless until they find
rest in thee.”