Jars with bottoms

 

The Basilica Cistern (Yerebatan Sarnıcı, “Sunken Palace”) in Istanbul was built in the 6th century under Emperor Justinian I, to store water for the Great Palace and the city. With 336 marble columns covering nearly 9800m², it ensured survival during droughts or sieges. It is a striking reminder that human provision in its season is essential but that, it is always finite. 

Human Limits and God’s Infinite Love

        I have had moments in life, especially in seasons of suffering that I had felt deeply abandoned by the very people who had been my support system. This is because, after a while they had rightfully moved on with their lives, leaving me to suddenly face the gravity of my suffering.

In the middle of my pain, I often thought that my struggles did not matter anymore to them.

        One of the cruelest lies we tell ourselves is that when human acts of care and kindness stop, it means we have always been unworthy.

Sometimes this cruel lie is reinforced to us by the media, or other ill-informed people.

        I have lived under that shadow for years. The feeling that I carried was that I am rejected or disliked or that I did not deserve attention or care. Maybe I had offended someone, or that I was simply ungrateful.

But when I look back, honestly, I see that was never fully true.

        At every critical point, there were people who stepped in. Sometimes it was a word of encouragement; other times, it was an offer of prayer. I received genuine support, even practical help. And sometimes, it was as simple as a smile from a stranger on the street that brought unexpected comfort.

        Perhaps it wasn't always enough to meet my expectations, or maybe I wished it had lasted a little longer. It rarely came in the timeframe or quantity I thought I had needed. But looking back, it was always enough for its season. Afterall, my needs were met, in proportion and in time.

What I once mistook for rejection was, often, just the reality that human support has its limits.

        This is the part that we often forget. Human love is not designed to be unlimited. It has boundaries. Even the best of friends, spouses and the most faithful family members, can only give so much. Their love, time, attention and resources have natural limits. That is not failure, and it is not rejection. it is simply what it means to be human.

        But here is where the danger comes in. The devil takes this human finiteness and twists it into accusation. “See? They do not care for you. You are unwanted. You expect too much.”

And when we believe that lie, every gap in human love begins to feel like abandonment.

        The truth is in a paradigm shift. These limits are not evidence of rejection, but they are reminders that only God can meet the infinite needs of our souls. That is how we were designed. We need two kinds of love. The finite portion we receive from people and the infinite portion that only God can provide. If we were to confuse the two, we will demand from people what only God can give, and we will end up feeling constantly disappointed and lonely.

        Human love and companionship are an amazing gift. But it is not designed to meet our every need. And when we recognize the difference, we can stop resenting the limits of human care and instead receive it with gratitude, while turning to God for His providence.

        But God calls us to renew our minds (Romans 12:2). Part of that renewal is learning to genuinely appreciate the parents, friends, pastors and fellow believers He has placed in our lives. This requires a retraining of the mind, a deliberate and intentional way of seeing others and the care they offer.

        Especially for those who live with trauma, the mind often convinces us that every disappointment is rejection, every boundary is abandonment, and every silence is betrayal.

But part of healing is coming to a deep sense of acceptance: they cannot be Him.

They will sometimes fail. They will sometimes give less than what we had hoped for.

        And if we learn to measure our relationships by what we received, instead of by what we felt was withheld, we begin to see evidence of God’s provision, rather than a trail of hurt.

        This perspective also transforms how we hear Scripture. Many commands in the Bible can feel impossible.

"Be thankful in all circumstances" (1 Thessalonians 5:18), 
"Share everything with fellow believers" (Acts 2:44–45), 
"Do not fear" (Isaiah 41:10).

When we read them through the lens of trauma or lack, they can sound like condemnation. As if God were demanding that we act like Him.

Is He asking us to endlessly give, always remain strong and manufacture joy? But  what if these commands are not burdens, but invitations?

Imagine what happens when we read them with the truth of human limits in mind.

"Be thankful always" is not asking us to manufacture joy, but to anchor our gratitude in the unchanging Source beyond people.
"Do not fear" is not a demand for constant bravery, but an assurance that His presence is enough when our resilience runs out.
"Share with one another" is not meant to shame us into exhausting ourselves, but to remind us that what we have, though finite, still matters in His hands.

In the background of every human limitation is the larger, limitless provision of God.

        Do you remember the story of the woman who was asked to collect jars that were later filled with oil? Even those jars had bottoms, but the oil of God never ran dry (2 Kings 4:1–7).

Similarly, human love is limited, but God is not.

And the commands that once sounded like accusations become lifelines, pulling us back to the One who never asks us to be Him, but simply to rest in Him.

And here is the ultimate assurance.
God longs to give us the desires of our hearts and to surround us with His favour as a shield.

“Delight yourself also in the Lord and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him and He shall bring it to pass.” Psalm 37:4–5

“For You, O Lord, will bless the righteous; with favour You will surround him as with a shield.” Psalm 5:12

        Our deepest longings: for love, for care, for recognition and for peace, are not ignored or trivialized. They are seen, held and met by the One who never runs out, never withdraws and never fails.

        When we anchor ourselves in this truth, we can receive human love gratefully, without mistaking its limitations for rejection.
And we can turn to God for the infinite portion that satisfies every longing of our soul.

Human jars may have bottoms, but His provision is endless.
        The finite love of parents, friends and mentors is real and good, yet our longings beyond them should point us toward the eternal, unwavering love of God. Living with this perspective transforms our hearts. We no longer demand from people what only God can give.

We no longer carry guilt for feeling hurt or lonely when human support falls short. We are free to receive what is offered, to let go of what cannot be and rest in the completeness of God’s care.

In the quiet spaces between disappointment and longing, we discover that we are fully known, fully loved and fully sustained.


And in that, we find not only comfort, but the courage to live fully. 

With gratitude, trust and hope; fully confident that our needs, both finite and infinite, are met in the arms of a Father who simply waits to wrap us in His everlasting arms.

A Reflection for the Heart

        If you are reading this and feeling the weight of disappointment, unfulfilled needs, or the pain of people who have let you down, pause for a moment. Take a breath and ask yourself:

Which of my needs can others meet, and which ones can only God satisfy?

        Notice the ways you have measured others by what only God can provide. Notice the places where you have felt rejected, abandoned, or unseen and consider whether the true gap was really the portion that only God could bridge.

        Take a moment to name the people who have genuinely cared for you, even if imperfectly.
Let gratitude rise for what they did give, rather than grief for what they could not. Their love is finite, but still a gift. Now, turn your gaze to God. Offer Him your longing, your need and your loneliness.

        Bring to Him your fears, when human care falls short, and let His endless provision fill the place that no one else can. Rest in the truth that His love has no bottom, never runs dry and that He never turns away from you. And finally, remember that God is not asking you to act like Him. He is asking you to trust Him to be God.

        When we anchor our hearts in His limitless love, human limits no longer feel like rejection. Even in the presence of imperfection, suffering or scarcity, we begin to experience connection, hope and peace.


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