Satisfied

Act I

Look around, look around,
Would it be enough to know
That you are alive right now?

Please look around, look around
At how lucky we are, it’s true,
To be alive right now.

Is it enough, or do we yearn
For more than we have earned
In a ceaseless, endless chase?

Are you sure you’re satisfied,
Or forever hungry, evermore,
In a desperate, frantic race?

—

Act II

I know I am enough. And I know I am not too much for the people who love me. To lay down my pride and accept my reliance on my friends’ charity has been one of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn this year. After all, it is a deeply shameful thing in my culture to admit you’re destitute and in need of help. If being an older sister was my only identity, then I have already failed more than once. Isn’t it a comfort to know we are children of God and co-heirs with Christ?

It’s not an easy task to renounce habits or ways of thinking that seem so integral to your being. But while these may contribute to your character, traditions and opinions don’t define you. I’ve had to do away with the impulse to provide financially for the people around me. And it hasn’t made me anything less than I am. People don’t love me any less, and I’m not failing in what God has purposed for me (though it’s a tempting thought to have).

There is a deep satisfaction in knowing you are loved wholly. Fully. Completely. Not because of your achievements or how well you provide for others, but because there was someone out there who wanted to love us. And that man was Jesus. Isn’t it outrageous that the Son of God decided to love us despite the ugliness of our flaws? If you’re not amazed by that incredible truth, where has your heart gone?

While that knowledge continues to transform my heart day by day, I still struggle with being satisfied. In a broken world like ours, dissatisfaction born from seeing injustice, poverty, and dissidence only seems natural. To me, at least. It’s okay, biblical even, to long for better circumstances—it’s okay to desire justice, to hate the pain loved ones suffer through, and to want wrongs to be made right. But to be dissatisfied with the state of the world or with your own station, what good is it to think about such things to the point of despair?

For the sake of self-righteousness?

Your heart may hurt knowing there are so many things beyond our control. It may hurt knowing that no matter how hard you try, you can’t always fix problems or avoid misfortune. But the burdens of this world were never yours to bear. Take comfort in knowing God cares. He cares about justice and the hurt we endure. And I also write this to remind myself of these things. Vengeance is His to take. Yet we still long for more.

Are you satisfied?

There is nothing finite in this world that can satisfy. After all, God has placed eternity in our hearts. It’s okay to long for more. But I hope you realise the more you are looking for is in Him. Only God can satisfy.

—

Act III

I am satisfied, but I am afraid I will be undone at the hands of a deceptive man who will never be satisfied.

I’m afraid I’ll marry a man who is less than a man—someone who chooses to abandon all responsibility.

Will I know who I marry?

Or will he be another Alexander Hamilton, an Icarus who flew too close to the sun?

Will he be a man so emotionally separated from his own rib that his wife was seldom privy to his heart while also relying on her to raise his son?

Will he be a man who was almost certainly emotionally dependent on his wife’s older sister, vying for her support and shared understanding?

Will he be a man who cannot turn away from temptations and gives in to the worst sinful betrayal?

I am satisfied, but I am afraid my desire for a family will be tainted by a man who cannot be present for his son or daughter.

I hope he will not be an Alexander Hamilton. For he was a man who needed three women to be satisfied. And even then, was he ever satisfied?

May I never become an Eliza. I’m not helpless. May I never know the sting of such betrayals again. For that type of pain lingers.

I hope I may find a husband whose effort matches mine. And may he pursue and love me as Jesus did.

—

As I walked out of the theatre having watched Hamilton for a second time, I realised how much I’ve changed. Perhaps it’s because my circumstances are so different, but I once wondered where to draw the line for when I should stop pursuing the next thing or cease fighting for something better. Was it because I wasn’t satisfied? I had that thought the first time I watched it. I think the conclusion I came to was that I was satisfied in all the right ways, yet still longing for lasting change. But if you now asked me if I am satisfied—if my life were to end right now, would I be satisfied?

In the last month, so many people have reached out about the words I write. I’ve been humoured by conversations of encouragement, sympathies, shared sorrows, and more. And all I can say is I’m glad that my pain amounted to something. I’m glad my words meant some of you have had hard conversations with your partner concerning your own relationships; that my words were powerful enough to make a man I just met almost cry in a peach tourmaline daze; and that my words have spurred others to think a little deeper about the way you live. I’m relieved that my words had any impact at all.

If God created me to suffer in such ways to teach and disciple like this, I would gladly become a martyr and do it all again. But I know we weren’t created to suffer. We were created to be loved by Him. So if you asked me if I am satisfied with what I’ve achieved—whether I’m satisfied with how I’ve lived my life—I would say yes. I never failed. The words I have written and the breath in my lungs, they would be enough.