In 2019, my wife and I finished moving into our newly constructed home. I remember watching the progress daily as it was being built, a plastic-wrapped structure with open holes instead of windows and doors. Sometimes we'd walk through the interior, daydreaming about the day when we'd leave our little apartment for the last time and finally move into our real home - the home we'd live in for a very, very long time.
I couldn't help but think that once we closed the front door behind us, my life would truly begin. But the truth was, once we moved into the house, I began looking forward to the next big beginning. With each passing year, I realize more deeply that there will never be a point in my life when I feel as if I've "arrived."
Like many others, I tend to look for fulfillment in the good things of life - my family, creative pursuits, and work. But I've learned that these things, as wonderful as they are, can never satisfy my truest and deepest longings. That void can only be filled by an eternity spent with Jesus Christ.
David, who had all he could ever want in the world, knew the truth: "You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever" (Psalm 16:11). I've discovered that this isn't just beautiful poetry - it's a profound truth about the nature of human satisfaction.
When I find myself struggling with contentment, the Lord often prompts me to return to Paul's wisdom: "Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need" (Philippians 4:11-12). Like Paul, I'm learning that contentment isn't automatic - it's a spiritual discipline that must be cultivated.
“I am the bread of life,” declared Jesus in John 4. “He who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst."
For the people of God, the key isn't in suppressing our desires but in redirecting them toward their proper object. As Isaiah wrote, "And the LORD will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail" (Isaiah 58:11).
It is half a decade later, and the house is full of good things: children, laughter, warmth, and the unending kindness of a loving God. I am blessed far beyond what I deserve, and yet, even as I enjoy all the good gifts God gives me, my heart can start to feel restless. I catch myself thinking that the next achievement or milestone will finally bring lasting satisfaction. But then I remember the truth that has transformed my perspective: I am an eternal soul, and only an eternal God can satisfy me. I must remind myself of what Jesus said: "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you" (Matthew 6:33). These moments of yearning serve as signposts, pointing me back to the only One who can truly satisfy.
The unfulfilled desires in my life are no longer sources of frustration but reminders that this world is not my ultimate home. As the years continue to roll, I hold onto the promise that "my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:19). I'm learning that true satisfaction isn't found in the absence of desire but in the presence of Someone greater than all my desires combined.
So now, when I walk through my home or pursue my next goal, I can appreciate these blessings for what they are - good gifts from a loving Father. But I no longer expect them to satisfy my deepest longings. That privilege belongs to God alone, my promised inheritance, the only One who can truly satisfy an eternal soul.
