THE YEARNING
By Steve Wessels
Dedicated to both of my Valentines
I was raised on a farm in East Central Illinois; with six siblings and a
father, who, despite all of his great attributes, never once said, "I love
you" to any of us. He proved his love with hard work. He just wasn’t a
verbal guy. It took decades, and grandchildren, before his tender,
affectionate side bloomed. And, the nurturing supplied by a tired mother of
seven simply couldn’t make up for a father who never said, "I love you!" or
affirmed the worth of his children.
So, as a teen, I grew up yearning for affection; desperately yearning,
seeking approval, longing for fulfillment. Would it have made a difference
if my father had been the verbal, affectionate type back then?
I also knew that, when I turned nineteen, I would be leaving for Viet
Nam. Would it have made a difference in a different generation and time?
Was not God in control of my life even then; maybe molding me, even then, to
write this prose and other poems now?
Was I really any different from today’s teens?
But, it was not until after I died to my need for affection; that
unquenchable, deep, seething fire that Solomon talked about (when by the age
of 49, the intensity waned, the desperate longing for a mate flickered …
like a slow burning candle; the fire died, the flame went out, the wick no
longer even smoldered).
I was finally at peace, completely at peace, forever reconciled with the
death of hope that hope I so strongly believed in (that hope and promise of
Romans 15:13; where such encouragement lives and has its meaning and
purpose … in His time).
The candle of hope went completely out. I was finally At Peace with my
earthly sentence; content to live alone with God, content to never again
feel someone’s arms around me, to never again hear sweet chatter or laughter
or know intimate love, to never again experience the fulfillment and
companionship of a spouse, a lover, a friend, a partner, a soul mate, or a
house full of children.
I finally gave up the yearning for a mate; the searching, the prayers,
the mourning, the long, desperate, lonely nights, the tears, the years of
tears.
It was only after the tears had dried, when I finally understood the
depth of God’s yearning for my soul, and I comprehended the full measure of
His longing to be my Source, My Companion, my Joy, my Fulfillment, my All.
It was only after the candle of my yearning died to all but Him, that He
brought into my life that One Special Person, Carol, who by the touch of her
hand burned my hand and lit a fuse that sputtered for a week before I found
the courage to ask her out for a date.
Then she kissed me and knocked me on my can. You can read "the rest of
the story" in An Ode to Carol. And in Such Harmony, and I Never Knew,
Cuddles, The Smirk, The Sock, and dozens more poems still welling within.
Today is Saint Valentine’s Day; a special day set aside to commemorate
and celebrate the pure love and affection showered by an old man on a young
lass through letters about hopes and dreams and virtue and wisdom, and of
yearning for fulfillment (the God-given fishhooks of the body and the soul;
that pure and holy love, overflowing with satisfaction, of sufficient waters
to quell the yearning, those raging fires within that Solomon so rightly
warned us about).
I have found peace here on earth. God brought me Carol; as Fulfillment,
my Companion, my Soul mate, my Lover, my Partner, my Wife.
As I stop to write about Carol on this Valentine’s Day, and consider my
yearning and His Yearning, I thank God. I thank God for His yearning, for
the tears He shed for ME as He silently waited for the death of my hope, as
He quietly gathered me into His comforting Spirit-arms and taught me this
most difficult and painful life-lesson. I had to completely die to self to
live in Him. Only He can truly satisfy the yearning, for He IS The
Yearning. He yearns for us to fulfill us with Himself; His joy, His peace,
His Spirit, His blessings, His love.
Isn’t it past time that you, too, surrendered your yearning to Him,
whatever it be? Isn’t He, even now, still in control of your life and mine?
Trust me. He knows how to fulfill us, for He created us. And, He
yearns for us far more than we know. For while we were yet sinners, He wept
and died for us that we might learn how to die to ourselves that He might
become our true Yearning; offering His Peace in exchange for all our
heartache and sorrow and tears.
What do we have to lose but our garbage-filled lives? What do we have
to gain but His Presence for eternity, with utter contentment midst storms
of life … His Peace, which passes all understanding.
Is it any wonder, then, that tears so freely flow when I stand in awe
and worship my Creator, Who has so graciously and completely filled that
God-shaped canyon of yearning within my heart with Himself AND with Carol?
