everybody's got one
There’s a line in a Vigilantes of Love song that demands to be song loud and from the heart, but it hurts to say it aloud, and it hurts even more to realize the inescapable truth behind it:When you find there’s nothing special about that big hole in your heart … ‘cause everybody’s got one and precious little time to talk about it.
Last night I saw a sad sight. It’s a sight I have seen before, but it still hurt to see it again. In my neighborhood there is a woman who I see outside every so often. We have never met or spoken, and only once has she noticed me and returned the wave that I usually offer. From a distance she looks pretty and young and maybe even like someone with whom I would be friends. I see her once in a while in the daytime, as she is out walking her dog and I’m out with mine. In the past month or so, I have also seen her outside in the evenings … only she’s not with her dog, she’s with a man. And each time I have seen her, it has been with a different man. And with each of those men she seems to be quite familiar, in a physical sense at least. Last night I watched with an ache in my heart as she stumbled down the sidewalk, falling clumsily against the tall dark-haired man that walked beside her. His step seemed a bit more sure, and – although I was watching from across the street and the streetlights were quite dim – I am positive I saw a twisted smile on his face and a selfish look in his eyes. From my vista, it seemed that he was looking at the woman as a hungry wolf might gaze at a lost little lamb that somehow got away from the flock. Her blonde hair looked messy and her face appeared to be a little too relaxed. It was quite obvious this woman was drunk, and it didn’t seem that the man was drunk at all. Sadly, I can think back to a few other nights when I watched from afar as the same "walk" took place. It makes my heart hurt for this woman. I feel anger toward these men. I want to grab the woman and shake her and shout at her and wake her from her intoxicated stupor. I want to tell her that she is beautiful and lovable and that she is so much better than what she is settling for.
But I didn’t move. I sat in my car and looked at her and thought of the words to that song, about everyone having a hole in their heart. And I cried as I realized that I am no different than that lovely woman I was watching. There is a hole in my heart that is more evident and sensitive at some times than it is at others. Without realizing it, I sometimes look to other people in the hopes that they can give me something to fill that hole. I look to activities and ministries and causes, and maybe I’m successful at stuffing that hole full of things … but those things eventually settle, and there’s still a whole lot of "hole"ness there. There is still some space between emptiness and fulfillment. But I’m stubborn and hard-headed, and I still clumsily and unskillfully try to fill that hole myself.
We all have holes inside of us. You can use the catchy clichés and say they’re "God-shaped" if you want. Maybe they are. I guess if we say that, then we can say that whatever we are trying to use to fill that hole, whether it be sex, or love, or drugs, or alcohol, or causes, or careers, or money, or relationships … those things become our Gods. And if we push and pull and shove and pack them in there, they may do a really good job at filling part of that hole within us. But the truth is, I’m not sure that hole will ever totally be filled as long as we live on this earth and dwell in these bodies made of flesh. There is some part of us that will always be unfulfilled and dissatisfied, and I think that’s the way God wants us to be. If we somehow discovered the secret to fulfillment, then we wouldn’t look to Him, who is really the One who can satisfy or fulfill us anyway. It hurts my head to think about the absolute fulfillment we will one day enjoy when we stand before Him and long no more for anything.
This could be a depressing post, but if anything it should serve to motivate me (and you) to do the best we can to reach out to others and to take time to talk about the holes inside of us. As long as we are on this earth, we are all in the same boat … it’s just that some of us have found the oars and learned the joy of rowing, so that we can see more and enjoy more and feel more. There are many around us who are simply sitting in their boats with no idea of what to do. Last night I had the chance to invite someone into my boat and maybe let her rest a bit as I rowed for her, but I let that opportunity pass me by. I watched as she used her hands to try to paddle to an island where she thought she would find happiness. I have a feeling she never got to that place, and I am quite convinced that the island doesn’t exist. Tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after that, if I get my eyes off myself long enough to see her, I have a feeling I might know where to find that young lady, and maybe next time I will be willing to slow down and help her out of her water-filled boat and let her sit with me a bit.
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