I spent a lot of time trying to fill a void in the center of
me. I was always looking to that next thing; the thing that was going to
finally make me satisfied. I thought it was sex, I thought it was marriage, I
thought it was fulfilling my dreams, finding a job I loved, being financially
stable, but it wasn’t any of those things. Now, some of those things are
awesome, but their awesomeness lessens to the degree to which you believed they
were going to fulfill you completely.
One of my favorite artists, Amanda Palmer, wrote about a
time when she, as a child, toppled down the stairs. Uninjured, but in a panic,
she ran into the kitchen to tell her parents. The kitchen was full of family,
but as she recounted her harrowing fall, no one believed her. “They thought I
was making it up. Trying to get attention. Exaggerating. Dramatizing. And there
I was …. realizing that everything I’d been doing in my life, artistically,
could be summed up like this:
“PLEASE BELIEVE ME. I’M REAL. NO REALLY, IT HAPPENED, IT
HURT (The Art of Asking, 2015).”
The realization came that the way that little girl felt,
helpless, desperate to be believed—held and comforted—had colored how she lived
her whole life. I can relate to that. So many things that I’ve done, the big
moments—the big mistakes—have largely been an effort on my part to get meaning
from recognition. If I’m loved, I
tell myself, then life will have mattered. If I succeed,
I tell myself, I’ll know satisfaction.
If I’m funny enough, honest enough, fit enough, good enough, give
enough, I tell myself, I’ll finally be full.
I wasn’t.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be understood, or to
connect with another human being on a profound level—I think that’s what we’re
made for. That’s why love is central to God; is, in fact, who God is, and what
he wants us to emulate. But to think those things provide ultimate satisfaction
robs them of any succor they provide. Relationships become a means to a selfish
end, not a sharing of selves. And even relationship with God becomes a thing
where we come to him regularly, deeds in hand, and ask, “Are we good enough now, daddy?”
Because of the willing sacrifice of God on our behalf, we
never have to ask that question. He believes us. He knows we’re real. He has
experienced our pain.
-Chad West
