Experiencing God's Curiosity and Compassion by Chuck DeGroatMuestra
What were you longing for?
It’s the first question I asked, the only question I really wanted to ask, when she confessed to me her infidelity in her marriage. There’d be plenty of time for harder questions, and she’d have to face the ramifications. But this was a moment for tender curiosity.
“Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God,” St. Augustine wrote. Indeed, God created us with hungry hearts, thirsty souls, our whole being meant to be satisfied in God’s embrace, in God’s flourishing world, in God’s good design for us. But the serpent twisted the story, convincing Adam and Eve that God’s word couldn’t be trusted, that our design was flawed. Adam and Eve grasped, and we’ve been grasping ever since, chasing worth, belonging, and purpose.
“Have you eaten from the tree?” God asks, a third compassionate question meant to evoke their curiosity. What God was asking is this: Where have you taken your hunger and thirst? Where have you taken your deep longings; longings meant to be satisfied in me? And each of us is invited to consider God’s tender invitation. Each of us is implicated in the ancient story.
A workaholic takes his deep longing to the worth and approval good performance and productivity offers. An alcoholic takes her deep longing to the numbing disconnection that provides a temporary semblance of satisfaction. There are all kinds of addictions and attachments – food, shopping, gambling, exercise, codependent love, power, knowing, certainty, perfection, sex, and more. Underneath these, a wound of disconnection, an echo of our original alienation in the garden. In our emptiness, we seek to be filled.
When the woman confessed her infidelity and I asked her "What were you longing for?" she looked surprised, even confused. She’d expected a chastisement. However, in that moment, I remembered God’s curiosity in Genesis 3. I asked again, and this time her eyes welled with tears. “I felt seen and cared for in a way my heart had longed for so long,” she said. “I felt unseen in my marriage. I know, I shouldn’t have gone looking for it elsewhere, but I was so hungry for love.”
In that moment, she experienced the beauty of God’s kindness in Genesis 3. God asks, “Where are you?” and she knew she’d gotten lost. God asks, “Who told you?” and she knew she’d settled for a counterfeit story. God asks, “Where have you taken your longings?” and she knew she’d chased love and worth in an affair. God’s questions don’t shame us. They invite us to discern the depths of our hearts.
God’s kindness leads to repentance (Romans 2:4). Not shame. Not judgment. Not rage. God is a compassionate father, but also a compassionate mother (Isaiah 49:15-16; 66:13). God’s heart is for you. God longs for your restless heart to long more deeply for the goodness you’ve been designed for.
Acerca de este Plan
Before the world began, God–the Trinity–imagined a world of goodness, of flourishing, of delight–Eden–with human beings at the very center of it, created for worth, belonging, and purpose. But a slithering serpent with deceitful lies turned delight into despair, and our first parents– and all of us–find ourselves east of Eden, hiding, coping, alone. But God shows up with curious and compassionate questions, inviting us back to him, and back to ourselves. Let’s discover how.
More