Every time I sit in front of a pond or lake or ocean I cannot help but notice that the amount of water sitting in front of me is a very large amount. It's an abundance. It's a lot. Anyone who has read The Fault in Our Stars will recognize the idea that "some infinities are bigger than other infinities." The idea would follow that if there are bigger infinities, there must also be smaller, little infinities. In each lake, the abundance is so great that I readily realize that I will never be able to count the drops in front of me - and I am inclined to describe this water as a little infinity of its own.

This little infinity is nice to look at, but it doesn't surprise me. It doesn't take my breath away anymore. I've seen enough ponds, lakes, and oceans to realize that they're not really that unusual, and to realize just how many little infinities there really are. I realize that there is a little infinity of trees in every wood I've walked through. I'll never know how many there are. When I go to the beach, there is a little infinity of sand, and every time it rains, there is a little infinity of clouds.

But how can it be that I can encounter all these infinities - time and time again - and still remain unchanged after the encounter?

An infinity, by definition, is "a number greater than any assignable quantity or countable number." If this is true, it should go on forever. Whether it's a bigger or little infinity, the definition remains the same. If it goes on forever, it should eventually include everything that is. And if it includes everything that is, shouldn't I eventually come across something that changes me or satisfies me in a way that nothing else can? How can it be that I can sit in front of a little infinity like a lake, and leave the lake just as thirsty as I was before? Even if I've been hydrating all day; even if I bring a gatorade and a bottle of water with me; even if the lake water itself is clean enough to drink - I will still end up thirsty in the end.

C.S. Lewis argues that for every natural and innate desire there is - and what is more natural and innate than thirst? - there is some real object that can satisfy that desire. He says in his book Surprised by Joy, that "if I find in myself a desire which nothing in this world can satisfy, the most reasonable conclusion is that I was made for another world."

The idea that there are infinities which are unsatisfying is incredible to me. If infinities are supposed to go on forever, wouldn't I eventually find something completely satisfying?

But I don't. And after each encounter, I'm left with multiple unmet desires - physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally.

In her song Blessings, Laura Story ponders the idea that maybe "the greatest disappointments or the aching of this life" are "the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy." This must be true, because I can't find what I ultimately need here.

The only possible conclusion I can reach is that maybe these infinities aren't really infinities at all - maybe, when it comes to infinities, there is only one, and perhaps this only one is something that can be found only in another world.

Songs and stories and movies and experiences tell us that when we sail across the ocean, when we conquer the infinity, our journey is concluded by simply stepping back onto shore - how unsatisfying is that?

When you get to the top of a mountain, seemingly infinite, what do you do? You turn around and come back down. How unsatisfying is that?

Next time the sunrise or sunset or sky full of storms catches your eye, you'll probably search for words to describe it. You won't be able to find any. How unsatisfying is that?

As much as we want satisfaction, the truth always ends up being that none of the satisfactions we come close to reaching are ever permanent. We've never found the permanence we desire, but that doesn't change the fact that we desire it.

C. S. Lewis asks, "don't you at least want there to be a God? Won't you at least admit that it's a beautiful fairytale?"

And my undeniable response is yes, infinitely yes - because I have an infinite desire. An infinite desire to satisfy my thirst; to stay at the top of the mountain; to find words that adequately describe the sky.

If I possess this infinite desire, unmet by anything in this world, my only hope is that there is some infinite answer, of another world, holding out to fill the questions and desire of my heart.