Why Our Lives Don’t Seem to Work A personal story and an invitation to healing
Why Our Lives Don’t Seem to Work
A personal story and an invitation to healing
Have you ever wondered why, no matter how hard you try, you keep falling into the same patterns? Maybe you say or do things you regret. Maybe you find yourself reacting in ways that hurt others—or yourself—and later feel ashamed or disappointed. You want to do better. You want to glorify God. But something deep inside keeps pulling you back to the same responses, over and over.
I’ve been there. In fact, I still find myself frustrated at times—asking, Why am I like this? Why do I keep doing things that go against the person I want to be?
The truth is, most of us are trying to deal with life the best way we know how. But if we don’t understand what’s really going on inside us—beneath the surface—we’ll keep responding in ways that don’t work. To begin healing, we need to ask two very important questions:
1. What is the real problem?
2. How did God create us to live?
The Deep Needs We All Carry
All of us were created with deep emotional needs: to be accepted, to feel significant, and to know we are secure. These needs aren’t selfish or weak—they were given to us by God, on purpose. The problem is that we often try to meet these needs in our own way, apart from God.
Acceptance means feeling like we belong, like we are wanted just as we are.
Significance means knowing our life matters and that we make a difference.
But because we live in a broken world, and many of us have lived through trauma, these needs often go unmet. Or worse, we try to satisfy them in ways that leave us more wounded.
We look for acceptance in friendships or romantic relationships, but end up feeling rejected. We chase significance through achievement or service, but still feel unseen. We try to find security in control, busyness, or even faith activities, but our anxiety remains.
It’s like having a love tank inside of us that was meant to be filled—but stays empty.
My Story
Let me explain this through my own story.
Both of my parents came from homes where love was either withheld or damaged. My father grew up with emotionally distant parents. My mother grew up in a deeply abusive home where she was sexually abused by her father and rejected by her mother and sisters. Their own “love tanks” were nearly empty.
When they married, they were trying—without even realizing it—to get enough love from each other to fill their empty love tanks. When I was born, they had very little to give. I grew up feeling emotionally abandoned by my dad and hurt by my mother. Add abuse to that, and you get a child—me—longing for love, but not knowing how or where to find it.
So I turned to the only person I thought I could count on: myself.
At nine years old, I helped lift hay bales onto a wagon. One of the men complimented me, saying how strong and hardworking I was. I didn’t realize it then, but something clicked in me that day. If I wanted to be seen and valued, I had to work hard. That was how I could earn love.
From that point on, I lived like that was true. I poured myself into work, hoping someone would notice me, appreciate me, and finally tell me I mattered. But the praise always faded, and I had to work harder just to keep up. It became a cycle—one that eventually left me exhausted, empty, and still feeling unloved.
Maybe you’ve done something similar—turning to work, people, food, ministry, pornography, religion, or perfectionism to try and satisfy that ache inside. At first, it might seem to help. But in the end, it always leaves us thirsty again.
Addictions of the Heart
What I’ve learned is this: these patterns we fall into—they’re not just bad habits. They’re addictions of the heart. We become addicted to anything that promises to numb the pain or meet our needs—even if only for a moment.
It’s easy to misunderstand addiction. Most people think it’s just about pleasure-seeking. But it’s not. Addiction is about avoiding pain. It’s about trying to quiet the ache of unmet longings—longings for love, safety, belonging.
When we keep trying to meet these needs in our own strength, we end up hurting ourselves and those around us. But the behavior isn’t the real issue. It’s the symptom. The real problem is much deeper: we are trying to live life on our own terms, without receiving from the only One who can truly satisfy us.
How God Designed Us
Which brings us to the second question: How did God create us to live?
Genesis tells us we were made in God’s image—to walk with Him, to know Him intimately. Adam and Eve had everything they needed in their relationship with God: full acceptance, significance, and security. They were deeply loved.
But when sin entered the world, they did what we all do. They hid. They tried to cover their shame and fix their brokenness their own way. And we’ve been doing the same thing ever since—sewing our own “fig leaves,” trying to deal with our pain in ways that leave us more isolated and more broken.
Yet even in our hiding, God continues to call out, “Where are you?” He wants to restore what’s been lost. He’s not ashamed of our neediness—He’s the One who can meet it.
He created us to receive love—not to earn it. He never asked us to fix ourselves or figure it all out alone. He invites us to return to Him. He is the only One with a full love tank, and He longs to fill ours.
An Invitation to Risk Something New
Maybe everything you’ve tried has left you more tired, more wounded, and more alone. Maybe you’ve been running on empty for a long time. Maybe, like me, you’ve tried to fix your life from the outside in, and it just doesn’t work.
Friend, I want to gently ask: What if you stopped trying so hard? What if you let God meet you in your emptiness instead of running from it?
The prophet Isaiah wrote:
“Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved.
In quietness and confidence is your strength.
But you would have none of it...
So the LORD must wait for you to come to him
so he can show you his love and compassion.”
—Isaiah 30:15,18 (NLT)
He’s waiting. Not to scold you. Not to shame you. But to love you, fill you, and lead you into something better.
This is your invitation—to stop running, and to start receiving.
Not from the world.
Not from others.
Not even from yourself.
But from the God who made you, knows you, and loves you still.
Are you willing to risk change? Are you willing to let Him fill the places that have always felt empty?
I hope you will. Because there is more to life than this—and that “more” begins with Him.
Don't go it alone.
