Empty.

Parking lots at midnight, baseball stadiums in January, and church pews on Tuesday mornings- I’ve grown akin to the empty.

A few mornings ago, I poured some water into a cup, took what I thought would be a refreshing sip, and quickly learned the horror of newly-water-downed, day old coffee and cream. For the first time in maybe my entire life, I realized the significance of emptiness (and the dreadfulness of leaving old remnants behind.)

While drinking my daybreak water-coffee was no grave atrocity, ignoring the lesson in it could be so tragic. Often times, and I believe in correct standing, we place our focus on being filled. We put food in our bellies, knick-knacks in our homes, and entertainment in our time off. We strive for crowded sanctuaries in our churches and checked off boxes in our schedules. While none of these are “bad,” I fear they are mere distractions to keep us from addressing our hollowness- nothing but decorations on the walls of our barrenness.

Emptiness forces us to see our own bankruptcy. The poverty that binds the billionaire to the homeless and the renown evangelist to the newly saved – the fact that we have nothing apart from the Divine – can only be seen when we are destitute. Think of how easily direct-deposits hide the holes in our bank accounts. It’s not until the last days before the new pay period that we employ our resourcefulness and pray (beg) for grace and financial miracles. The emptiness of our accounts is what shows us the patterns of our spending and our need for better habits. When the accounts are continuously full, we disburse freely and, often, mindlessly. When they are continuously void, we reevaluate and look for areas to improve.

The same is true of our souls. While it is good to be “full” and brimming with life and the Spirit, times will come when we are not. And it is my opinion that the lack is also good.  It’s not until things are shaken and we have nothing left to give that we hand ourselves over to the desperate search to find Him wherever He may be found. Furthermore, to never know the bleakness that occurs without His replenishing touch would be to never know the gap between God and man. To never know the gap would be to never appreciate His bridging.

In the past few weeks, I have felt nothing but empty- void of strength, lacking in know-how, and depleted of desire. My inability to muster up some offering apart from my broken, tired heart has proven to me, again, His unfailing and distinctive love. He likes me when I’m damaged and He isn’t put off by the frame in need. Empty is hardly fun. But I am learning that it takes emptiness to give room for fullness.

When I feel inadequate for the day, or too weak to give what is asked of me, I remember that He is a God who fills the void and I need only to give Him the space to be who He says He is.