Searching for . . .

What are we all looking for in life? Those needs may fluctuate day by day, moment by moment. Respect, success, love, a cure, some resolution, hope, health, one more day . . . each expressed in a breath, a moment, a prayer. To truly search for something, you have to know what you’re looking for. It’s hard to find a floating bubble with a flashlight at night—to catch one in your hand and put it in your pocket is virtually impossible. Any transitory desire would have just as much success being attained.

What is your heart set upon? Moment-to-moment wishes are fleeting, and satisfaction gained, if any, isn’t permanent. Is there a name for what you’re looking for? Sometimes our cries to Heaven lack shape and words, but God hears them all. He shines light upon your needs and answers your prayers in ways that you possibly don’t understand—but that have permanent results.

We are created with intangible longing. We look for heroes, for fulfillment, for a sense of completion that many try to patch with earthly things. And as exciting as a new Netflix series or that Amazon package may be, the show ends, the box is recycled (hopefully), and the shiny new object quickly becomes everyday clutter. Rather than trying to “stuff” the emptiness, name it: lack of connection to our Creator and Savior. Through reaching up to Him, pathways can be forged in unimaginable ways.

For me, I’m looking for hope and support. I’m searching for a way to emotionally support my family as we navigate the years-long battle of pediatric cancer. I am praying for a permanent cure and an end to the suffering we daily witness at home. I am not a bright ray of sunshine. Not even close. And even though my prayers are often formless nowadays, God answers them faithfully in the smiles of friends and strangers that I never guessed would reach out. Connections that my social awkwardness would never have facilitated.

But just like Moses and his speech impediment, God has provided me the means to reach out to others and communicate and trust the intentions and love of others. I can fully assert that my community at Stonebriar, my coworkers and friends in ministry, and those I have met through my time walking the halls—and now view through a screen weekly—give me focus— and being hopeful doesn’t seem as hard.

What are you searching for? How can Stonebriar help you find it?

I don’t know what tomorrow holds. But I know God holds my family in His loving hands. And if I have that assurance, I don’t have to look for anything else.