i'm disposable, but that's okay

Lesson 8- I have only found one source of permanency, and it ain't humans
Lesson 9- Sometimes God will call-you-out through the Bible. Like dang, that was pointed.

Fair warning: this is kind of a downer of a topic at first, but I promise it gets uplifting if you shift your perspective.
For a few days last week, I felt slightly discouraged. Not downright upset or anything, just less rooted than usual. Fragile, even. After further analysis (I've gotten really into meditation these days- hippie, I know) I realized that the majority of my unbalance stemmed from realizing how much my friendships have changed since last year. More than that, it was the acknowledgement that relationships are fluid and transitional that began to really unsettle me. I couldn't shake the inescapable truth that as much as I love my friends and know that they love me, human connection is inherently impermanent. It's a dark thought, but very few connections last your entire life. Friendships shift and fade, grow and morph, ebb and flow. It made me feel disposable. Replaceable. Of course, there are people that I'll stay close to forever (my family, potential spouse, best friends etc), but those are the exceptions more than the rule as far as total relationships in my life. Beyond that, it wasn't the potential relational expiration date that scared me, it was understanding that human connection can never complete me. If our identity is completely rooted in another, we are destined for disappointment. Even my closest relationships can't always be there for me. There aren't enough hours in the day for my best friend to accompany me to every class, aren't enough minutes of data for me to call my mom every time I have a thought, aren't enough parties for me to feel like I'm always part of a group. It just isn't possible for other humans to make you feel permanently whole. That doesn't mean we should avoid connection for fear that it won't last; friendships are still a gift that we should absolutely take advantage of. They can bring us joy, depth, and gratitude. My problem was that I had unconsciously allowed a good thing (friends) to become what I considered the best thing. It wasn't until I read Jeremiah 17:5-8 that I understood why I felt so 'off.'

This is what the Lord says:

“Cursed is the one who trusts in man,

who draws strength from mere flesh

and whose heart turns away from the Lord.

6That person will be like a bush in the wastelands;

they will not see prosperity when it comes.

They will dwell in the parched places of the desert,

in a salt land where no one lives.

7“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in him.

8They will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit.

After reading this, I realized that OF COURSE I feel unfulfilled if I base my worth in my relationships. As much as humans can love each other, it cannot compare to the depth of finding identity in God. There won't always be someone there when you're alone, and that's okay. Humans were never meant to be each other's savior, and it's unfair to expect that of each other. We can love each other to the best of our ability in good and bad times, but we have to understand that ultimately the only permanent satisfaction we can find is in the Lord. Everything else can begin to feel like a "wasteland." But what a blessing that there's "stream" that can fill the void eternally. Someone who really does always love me perfectly and understand me more than I understand myself. Someone who changes with me and is ever-present. We are not disposable to him; we are uniquely made in His image and have a special place where only we fit. And now I can find so much more contentment in my relationships because I see them as a blessing rather than a given right, a partnership rather than a salvation.