Although we are still a couple weeks away from autumn, yesterday had a hint of that rich, windblown smell. I always associate autumn with wistfulness, which is not quite desire but rather a strange form of missing. With wistfulness, you often are not missing something that once belonged to you but rather something that you feel should be part of you. You might not even know the nature of the missing element. Here is an excerpt from a post I wrote two and a half years ago about the emotion of "missing."
"Missing" is an interesting emotion, isn't it? There are so many types of missing. There is simply noticing a missing element. Or the gnawing ache of a permanent absence or loss. The wistful yearning for something or something that we acknowledge as a bonus rather than an integral part of our lives. I'm not intending to use poetic language but terms with which we can easily connect. I'm sure that there are many layers and types of missing. People probably write terribly depressing and insipid books on the subject. And of course I realize that the missings often blend together until we do not quite know how to describe them or solve them other than instant gratification, the presence of the missed. It is not a strange concept to want something that we do not have, but somehow the concept of missing seems more complex. Yes, the missed must have been ours in some capacity at one point in order to be later missed. Inherent, inherent. So perhaps it is the sense of loss that accompanies missing that makes it so poignant. I am uncertain as to how much rumination on this topic is beneficial.
Whether an absence of something treasured, a desire unfulfilled, or a loss--missing is pain, isn't it? Sometimes I wonder what the benefit is. To appreciate what we do have? To trust God in our pain? I wish that we could forgo missing, but I must trust it has a purpose. Hopefully that purpose is greater than inspiring half the country music songs out there...
