The Hunger That Leads Me Home

Morning watch 8.4.25 4:47 am
 
This morning, I'm sitting with the ache of Matthew 5:6 and Psalm 42:1. I feel the hunger and thirst rising again—not for answers, but for righteousness. Not the kind that props up appearances or clings to law, but the kind that reconciles me to God and to others. That mends what’s been torn in silence and shadow.
Jesus names a righteousness that transcends the old markers. “You shall not murder” becomes “Do not even harbor anger.” I used to read that and feel disqualified. I remember the younger me—bruised by the impossibility of it all—whispering, “I can’t make it. I’ll have to quit.” That memory is still tender.
But now, I see something I couldn’t then: the righteousness I long for isn’t earned. It’s Christ Himself. The life that can fulfill this new law dwells in me, hidden and quiet, but faithful. My part is not performance—it’s cooperation. It’s longing.
So I speak it aloud today:
Lord Jesus, I hunger and thirst after You. Let Your life fill mine. Not my striving, not my shame. Just You.
And in that hunger, I begin to feel it—satisfaction. Not in having arrived, but in being met. This surpassing righteousness, this higher way… it is You, Lord. I seek You.