My Hearts Longs For Something Greater: Eternity In The Human Heart & The Emptiness Of Gorged Sensuality

All of life is filled with parables and metaphors that point to the meta-narrative of existence. The four seasons are laced with it. Media, movies, books, and stories are filled with expressions of the longings of our hearts. We long for a place we've never been. We desire a home we've never visited. We're filled with desires that nothing in this life can fulfill. We have eternity written on our souls, and this finite existence and it's fleeting pleasures leave us empty, exhausted... irritated, angry, because once again we've found a dead end on the one-thousand roads that we thought would lead to ultimate fulfillment. Yet once again we've found ourselves, let down.

Let down, again and again. Like that beautiful Radiohead song, "Let Down:"

Transports, motorways and tramlines, Starting and then stopping

Taking off and landing, The emptiest of feelings

Disappointed people, clinging on to bottles

When it comes it's so, so, disappointing

Let down and hanging around, Crushed like a bug in the ground

Let down and hanging around..."

And it ends with "One day I am going to grow wings, a chemical reaction, hysterical and useless."

We exist in a gray world. There were bright and colorful days when we were young, but slowly over time it seems like people die inside. The world slowly goes from bright beautiful colors to gray tones and darkness. And you see people walking around, and it's like they've lost all life in them, and there is nothing that really keeps them going aside from the pattern of steps they take each day. I call them the walking dead.

Until one day they're old and alone, suicidal and empty, broken, gorged on the delicacies of the world, and found to be... nothing at all. And only the most perverse pleasures will indulge the longing, and soon all is lost. Within, infinitely let down by the excesses of this world and so broken and bitter from those angry failures that to even suggest something greater makes them recoil in rage. Almost like a man who never lived out his dreams... and despises the young idealist who wants to do something special.

We long for eternity. We long for a garden of beauty. We long for a paradise of blue grass and golden skies. We long to not only feel joy but actually be joy.

We despair a thousand times in life chasing our goals to find that we've found another dead end. So we shut ourselves off to any possible good end, aside from indulgence and pleasure, even though those things are fleeting and empty. But I'm here to tell you today that there is a true end.

No it's not in fluffy mysticism, no it's not in the ultimate triumph of man, no it's not in money, sex, or power. It's in surrender. It's in the end of rebellion. It's in discovering the architect of all existence. It's in coming to who the creator really is. And it's about total surrender to this being, and the receiving of life from him. Believe it. There is nothing else in this life. There is no other way. The code is written on your very soul. Though we all fight it, we want something else, another way, another route, but there is no other route. There is only one road home.

Because the truth is, we're the ones who are lost in the dark woods. We're the ones who can't find our way. We're the ones who are confused, troubled, disturbed, like a confused, ignorant run away teenager who doesn't have the wherewithal to return home even if it means facing the music. Maybe we're afraid. Maybe we want so badly to fight. And to run further away from home. But there is nothing out there, in this vast darkness... There is nothing out there. Nothing but loneliness and emptiness. There is nothing in this dark wood. There is only the road home, or to go deeper into the nothingness. And the nothingness tears at us, and eats us alive, and crushes our will to live. Must we go even further into that great night? Or could we turn and head home? Even if it means letting go of the ego, letting go of the pride, and humbling ourselves...

Part I: The Journey through a Dark Wood

As C.S. Lewis said: “There is someone I love, even though I don’t approve of what he does. There is someone I accept, though some of his thoughts and actions revolt me. There is someone I forgive, though he hurts the people I love the most. That person is me.”

This life we live could be described as a long journey through a mysterious woods. There is beauty. There is intrigue. There is fear. There is so much confusion and doubt, outmatching at times the moments of happiness and joy. But there is great hope as well.