There is more in us than we know. If we can be made to see it, perhaps, for the rest of our lives, we will be unwilling to settle for less.
--- Kurt Hahn

It’s like a hole inside, a gully, or groove. A hunger you can’t appease or an itch you can’t scratch. Something, some thing is missing. It’s untouchable. Unanswered. Unreachable. Out of sight. Presumably unrecoverable. Missing. And not even the right career, right fortune, right honey, or right fame can replace this thing that’s missing.

For the very life of you, you can’t put your finger on what the thing is or how to get at it.

Perhaps the thing was taken from you long ago before it had a chance to develop, and, somehow, there are remnants or torn tentacles left dangling inside and you can feel their disjointedness crying out to be reconnected. Perhaps the thing that has yet to be answered is buried so deep inside that its rising to the surface will take every matter and muscle you can gather. Perhaps you haven’t found the strength, gumption, support, or personal regard to uncover the thing. Nonetheless, that thing is missing and the feeling of emptiness won’t go away.

Maybe some psychologist has defined it. Perhaps there have been books written and studies conducted about the very thing you’re looking for. Maybe there’s a cure for it or medication so you won’t want the thing so much and you can just go about your everyday not even thinking about the hole that’s left unfilled.

But maybe the thing that you can’t seem to get fulfilled is the thing that causes one to live fearlessly, to exist outside a prescribed box, or to face obstacles bigger than life. Maybe the thing that you’re missing is what gives life it’s fullness and certainty, the thing that is better than anything you’ve ever done, heard, felt, tasted, seen, or needed.

And perhaps without a correct name or identification of the thing, we haphazardly search in vain for what we believe will fill us up. Perhaps we search our entire lives then, upon tiring, we settle for not fully getting it and simply take what only comes close. Or, perhaps we search for it, get close to it, never quite touch it, get discouraged or disappointed then hide, shut down, turn, or run away.

Or, maybe you know without discovery of the thing, you can’t be completely satisfied, and in order to have anything fulfilling in your life, you have to live just above the thing’s surface. And you know you can never stop to acknowledge the enormity and magnitude of the thing that’s missing for fear that its inability to be quenched will leave you with very little to sustain and hold you.

Maybe the thing is unconditional love, self-acceptance, or passion. Maybe it’s perfection. Or peace, happiness, safety, or security. Maybe it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love that supersedes any love you’ve ever known.

Maybe you are so detached from your center that you only think you’re missing something.

Then again, maybe you really are.

Maybe the thing is only touched by Jesus who goes with us every step of our way and the reason our empty space isn’t filled is because we look to any thing but Jesus to fill it. Maybe Jesus already filled it and because we don’t know His true fullness, we’ve missed it and we’re looking for some thing altogether different.

Maybe you’ll find it if you retreat in the mountains or get quiet at the top of a hill. Maybe you’ll identify the thing by meditating or listening to your chakras. Maybe the thing never gets touched in this life and each time – or with each life – we’ll get closer and closer to the thing. Perhaps if you believe in an afterlife, there’s hope in this particular thought. If not, maybe you just settle for getting close.

Sadiqqa © 2008