The Ache for “I Know Not What”

Exploring Our Deepest Longings for God and Each Other

I set aside five and a half days to spend with my friend. It was going to be just the two of us. No one else. I wanted to get to know this friend much better.

The first day was so incredibly hot and sticky, it set heat records for the month. So we decided to go over to the beach, which wasn’t far from where we were staying.

It was hot there too, but the gentle breeze and freezing cold ocean made it at least a little bit more bearable.

My friend and I sat quietly together, alone, though surrounded by chatty people whose conversations we could almost, but not quite, hear, as they were just barely muffled by the light breeze and the inexorably regular sound of the waves.

We appreciated the rhythm of the waves, with an occasional wave coming a little higher and a little further, leaving the tinkling sound of tiny shells and small pebbles in its wake as it pulled back and regathered its energy for another foray onto the beach.

(By YOUR'S BACKGROUND)

As the tide steadily rose during the morning, it was as if each wave searched higher and higher on the sand for something… something it couldn’t quite describe as it didn’t know exactly what it was looking for.

As I think about it now, the undulating motion of the waves was very much like the conversation my friend and I were having.

Like the waves, I was searching for something I couldn’t name. I would reach out in my mind and, finding a welcoming presence but nothing concrete, I would fall back and wait to gather a little more energy for another foray into this conversation.

I poured out what was on my heart and in my mind. I told my friend about all the people I love and care about who are having troubles and trials.

I told my friend about my concerns for our nation and the world. My frustration and disillusionment, both with the leaders we are stuck with and my concerns about the people who voted for them, and about the people whose lives are being upended because of those leaders.

My friend just listened quietly.

At one point, with deep appreciation and gratitude in my heart for this friendship, I felt the need to express my feelings to my friend, so I said, “I love you.” In response, I heard, “I love you too, Debbie.”

Anyone who may have looked over at me, huddling in the shade under my umbrella on this sweltering day, would have thought I was alone. But I was definitely not alone.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I will tell you. My friend, of course, is Jesus.

I don’t take it lightly that I had the gift and blessing of five and a half days alone with the Creator of all things seen and unseen. I know that is a luxury unavailable to many. So I am truly grateful.

Because of the weather, which was unbearably hot for the first two days, I returned to the beach on the second day. But the next three days I spent alone with my friend in a small cabin at a retreat center.

(My little cabin at the Adelynrood retreat center in Byfield, MA.)

Jesus and I had many conversations during this week. Most of the time, I did the majority of the talking. But I was silent too, listening, waiting, expecting to hear something…

I often find that God speaks to me through the things I read. Sometimes, also, in what I call a “strong thought” in my mind. So when intentionally practicing silence and solitude, I try to alternate between periods of silent listening and simple presence, and reading scripture and other faith-based writings.

When I read scripture, I always refer to one or two commentaries to help me understand what I’m reading. For many reasons, the Bible is not an easy book to understand! I know I need help from other people. Although I lead a Bible study at my church, it feels like it’s been a long time since I have been blessed to read scripture in a true partnership with one other person. So I count on commentaries as God’s way of guiding and teaching me; many times I read exactly what I need to hear, as if it's directly from God.

Hearing God’s Voice: What Scripture and Silence Revealed About Leadership

As I read the Bible this past week, I focused on continuing to work my way through Leviticus, a book I had never really read carefully before. I also finished the first epistle of Peter. (I’ve decided to read the whole Bible from cover to cover, every verse, using a chronological Bible. But I find that I need to interject some New Testament scripture while working through the Old Testament.)

Both of the passages I read during my retreat were about leaders. In Leviticus 6 and 7, God outlines the requirements for the priests, the leaders of the people, regarding how they should offer their sacrifices.

More is expected of them because of their position, so when they fail to uphold God’s law, they must go above and beyond to repent and atone for their sins.

I was also reading in 1 Peter 5 about the shepherds God calls to lead his people. How they are called to be humble and to put their flock, the people under their care, as their first priority. However, the apostle warns his readers to be vigilant because “your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8, NIV).

The shepherds must stand resolutely against such evil. “Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings” (1 Peter 5:9, NIV).

So Peter instructs leaders to be both humble and morally resolute.

(By DKPhoto)

Obviously, looking at our leadership today, both in churches and in our nation, there are many applications of these messages.

As I kept company with Jesus during my retreat, it seemed that He was encouraging me to continue to pray for leaders of moral character.

I read in a random email recently that when we thank God after the fact, it’s called gratitude. When we thank God in advance, it’s called faith.

That thought inspired me to pray expectantly, all the time, for God to raise up humble, resolute leaders in our churches and our nation.

Learning to Trust: Insights from Spiritual Companions and Books

Among the books I brought with me to read this week was Tyler Staton’s Praying like Monks, Living like Fools, given to me recently by a good friend with whom I have read and shared God’s word in the past. There are many things I could share from this book, and I probably will in the near future, but my big, important takeaway is this: pray ceaselessly, vulnerably, and with faith.

Of course, I know that in my head. But making it a daily, joyful commitment that I look forward to is what changes us from the inside out. Spending time with God—just being with God, as I was on that retreat—creates the life-giving intimacy I crave. I want to give God even more access to my heart… and my calendar.

After finishing that book, I read Paying Attention to God. I had picked it up a while ago because the author, William A. Barry, SJ, was my spiritual director's spiritual director. She mentions him often enough that I wanted to find out more about him.

Already, on the second page of text, I could see why God led me to pick up this book. Barry discusses the Ignatian spiritual exercises, which I completed approximately two years ago. He writes, “Relationships develop through mutual self-revelation. But I will only reveal myself to you if I trust you, if I believe that you will accept me as I am revealed to you. The foundation of any growing intimacy must be a trust that the other wants to know me, is positively inclined toward me” (p.16).

This is true of any and all relationships. I have painfully discovered that when I can't trust a friend, I can't reveal myself. I have to know that I am loved without any conditions, or else it feels too dangerous to be vulnerable.

Yet we know from interpersonal neurobiology that our hurts and our shame cannot be healed in isolation. We need another mind to help us regulate our emotions and our responses to the shame that we all carry.

Those wounds must be brought out into the light of day in a very safe place, or they will continue to infect our thoughts and feelings unconsciously, just like hidden bacteria grow undetected, until the day when you’re “suddenly” sick. In truth, there’s nothing sudden about it. Both bacteria and personal wounds are growing below the surface, the whole time.

Barry's words caused me to think and pray deeply about my friendships:

Are any of them truly unconditional?

Am I loved simply for who I am, and sometimes despite who I am?

Do any of my friendships both bring out the best in me and help me regulate my mind when I am not at my best?

Do any of my friendships bear fruit and bless others?

And how do I show up for my friends?

Can they say they trust me to love them unconditionally?

That they are growing and bearing fruit because of my love for them?

As I described at the top of this page, Jesus is my greatest friend. Barry refers to this trust in friendship when he adds, “I believe the foundation of a growing intimacy with God must be such trust.”

But Barry doesn’t leave it there. He goes on to explain that we all “have experiences of a desire for ‘I know not what’... a desire for the unnameable, the ‘All,’ the Mystery we call God” (p.17).

Barry describes his own experience of walking by the seashore. He continues, “I admired the sun on the leaves and on the blue water. Suddenly there welled up in me a feeling of great well-being and a strong desire for ‘I know not what,’ for the ‘All,” for union, that made me very happy.”

He explains further, “God is the only one who can directly touch the core of our desirableness. His desire makes us desirable, makes us ‘the apple of his eye.’... only when I have at least some affective appreciation of the depth of God's love will I be willing and able to say and mean the final words of Psalm 139:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

Test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there be any offensive way in me,

And lead me in the way everlasting.”

Barry concludes,

“Only when people believe in such a God and experience such a God will they be able to reform their lives in accordance with the demands of being true to that relationship… God's creative love is touching people all the time, even in their moments of darkest pain. Perhaps, along with our merciful acts, we might also be alert to ways of helping people to experience that loving caress which even now makes them desirable as the apple of God's eye” (pp.18-19).

(The beautiful flowering tree outside my cabin, with cross-shaped flowers, reminding me of Jesus’ constant presence and incredible gifts of forgiveness and new life.)

Trusting the One Who Desires Us

As I look back on these days with Jesus—days of heat, a quiet beach, shaded hours with scripture, and unhurried conversation—I realize how much this time felt like the hypnotic waves I watched: always reaching, sometimes retreating, yet steadily moving toward something deeper. Like the tide searching higher up the beach, my heart is always reaching for greater intimacy, both with God and with others.

One clear theme emerged: Trust is the foundation of every relationship worth having, whether with God or with people.

Without trust, there can be no true self-revelation. Without revealing ourselves, we cannot experience the unconditional love that brings healing and growth. And without healing, our hidden wounds silently shape our lives, much like bacteria that grow unseen until sickness erupts.

I was struck by how God gently guided me to reflect not only on my relationship with Him, but also on the friendships I hold dear:

• Do they offer safety for vulnerability?

• Do they help me become more like Christ?

• Do I offer that same safety and love in return?

These questions challenge me to deepen my relationships and create spaces where unconditional love can flourish and hearts can heal.

Through scripture, Jesus also reminded me of the weight of leadership, both for myself and for those who guide communities and nations. Leaders are called to humility and moral courage; our prayers for them matter deeply.

As I prayed this week, I sensed Jesus urging me—and now I invite you—to pray with faith, thanking God in advance for raising up humble, resolute leaders who shepherd well.

My reading confirmed what my heart was experiencing: that prayer must be ceaseless, vulnerable, and full of faith; and that relationships—whether with God or others—grow through mutual self-revelation, rooted in trust.

I was also reminded of the mysterious ache for “I know not what”—that deep longing only God can meet. It is the desire for the “All,” the One who calls us His beloved and makes us the apple of His eye. When we experience even a glimpse of this love, we can echo the words of Psalm 139 with true surrender:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.

As I ended these days of retreat, I carried forward two invitations:

1. Stay in the conversation. Keep reaching like the waves, both in prayer with Jesus and in honest dialogue with trusted friends.

2. Be a safe place. Offer others the same unconditional love you long for, creating friendships where God’s healing presence can be experienced.

May you, also, seek and cultivate relationships—starting with Jesus—where you are fully known and fully loved. And may you have the courage to love and lead others in the same way, so that together, we can become people of trust, healing, and hope, transformed by the One who desires us most.

Where We Go From Here

I know this article addresses multiple topics: leadership, friendship, trust, and intimacy with God. As I sat with Jesus, these wanderings reflect the typical conversation between good friends who are just being present to and with each other. I invite you to reflect on these questions that will, I think, draw it all together:

1. Where do you see God inviting you to grow in trust—either with Him or with the people He’s placed in your life?

2. What friendships or relationships feel safe enough for you to reveal your true self? How can you nurture more of these spaces?

3. Are there leaders in your life you feel called to pray for? What would it look like to pray with faith, thanking God in advance for leaders who shepherd with humility and courage?

4. How can you become the kind of friend or leader who offers truly unconditional love and helps others feel like the apple of God’s eye? (Really think about this one. Do you have unspoken conditions for friendship? Does anyone expect that of you?)

5. What might it mean for you to stay in the conversation with Jesus, especially when you sense that longing of “I know not what” stirring in your heart?

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