This past year I have been wrestling with asking God for things. Every time I approach him with my hearts desires, I experience guilt and then hesitation. I question whether my desires are selfishly coming from a sense of entitlement or are simply not worth asking him about (because, you know, he is busy with world peace and children dying from thirst).

I acknowledge that I am a privileged person. While I do not have great wealth or unending resources, I am, by comparison, privileged. I live in a country with a stable government and an abundance of food. Our family earns a livable income and we feel secure in most areas of our lives. This is not the state of much of humanity. I am privileged.

And even more, I have much of what I want. I own clothes and have options for what to wear every morning. I have access to public transportation and even the ability to travel to see my loved ones. I really enjoy my job, with which I feel a sense of purpose and calling. I have a family of my own, a loving community, and a home (well it’s in the works let’s say).

So when there is something I want, or feel like I need, I have such a hard time asking God. I don’t want to offer seemingly shallow prayers for fast cars or diamond rings (These are not my prayers specifically but they could be yours, and that’s okay). We have one wonderful healthy child, so I feel spoiled asking God for more children. We have a home, although it is currently being restored after a minor flood, and I feel bad asking God to bring this process to completion quickly when homelessness abounds in Vancouver and refugees are scattered across the globe.

Some people have been helpful and prayed with me for these things. There have been others who have only added to the guilt and shame of my wanting.

The wanting has not gone away. It sits heavy on my heart. Sometimes I try to squash the desire with guilt. Or kill it with self-criticism and shame (“that is so selfish”). Other times I just ignore it, or make my best attempt at ignoring it, by tuning out my heart. One thing that helps me avoid the wanting is to avoid prayer and talking to God in general. He always has a way of calling out my desire, so if I don’t talk to him, well, he can’t meddle. Or so it seems.

Do not judge your heart’s desires and hide them from the Lord. Go to him with all of it. Pour your heart out, let him see you let him hear what you want, and then give him space and time to respond.

But this desire and wanting never really goes away. Even now while writing about them there is some ache in my chest as I realize how hard I have tried to repress and avoid the feelings simply because they seem shallow. And I am ashamed.

Writing a blog on all these feelings I have tried to ignore has been a discipline, because obviously, avoiding God is not a wise or beneficial solution. Time after time God tells us to “ask”. He tells us to “seek” (Matthew 7:7; Luke 11:9). He tells us not to fear in our approach of him. He tells us to come to him with boldness (Hebrews 4:16). And there are no qualifiers. He does not say, “unless it is shallow or worldly, then I am uninterested”. He does not say, “I will judge your longings before I hear you out”. He does not stand over us and say, “You’ll shoot your eye out”. No. Over and over again in scripture he asks us to come to him with everything, to lay our hearts at his feet, to be vulnerable with him.

Our longings can lead us to God or away from him. My tendency is to get stuck in the guilt or shame and worry about the depth of my prayers, which doesn’t lead me to him. I spin my wheels wondering if God even cares, or if he thinks I am an insensitive entitled brat. I get locked into my own insecurity and self-criticism. But even as I am writing, I am beginning to think more logically, and I know he is not concerned with the items on my list as much as my connection with him.

So my hope is to communicate to you, as I am learning as well, do not judge your heart’s desires and hide them from the Lord. Go to him with all of it. Pour your heart out, let him see you, let him hear what you want, and then give him space and time to respond.

If my desires are indeed shallow, do I trust him to be gentle in his correction of me?

If my wants are trivial, do I trust that he actually cares about the small stuff in my life?

If my hopes and dreams feel impossible, do I trust him to lead me where he knows will be best for me?

If my prayers are selfish or entitled, do I trust him to mature me and grow me past this error?

We will never know if we do not ask.

So ask.