Sunrises of Joy Amid the Empty Spaces

Empty places don’t always need filling.

I coast around the cliff, down our hill, across the tracks to the open field, socked with morning dew…

White clouds hover over the earth, blinding creation, making it impossible to see, just a few feet in front of me…

This morning of empty places, wet spaces, open earth, almost cries for the sun to rise, nature to make its way to an abandoned version of all we are…

Where we belong.

Yet, when people can’t see, soaked in fog, often each of us falsely resorts to our own resources; of faithless living, cowardice, and fear.

The Picture

I put her face in front of me, on my refrigerator last week. Refusing to escape the aching, not hiding in denial, or turning to another child to comfort me…

I have learned, evening has its purpose, night its intent, winter isn’t to be avoided, but meant to prepare us for the coming spring.

And sometimes we can’t unravel feelings, keep living in some emotionless existence…

Sometimes we just must sit in the silence, take in the smog of the earth in all it’s weakness, waiting in the richness of this soil He has given us…

All the while, looking to the sky, trusting His light to reach us…

Believing there will be a day, His morning will forever come.

Sometimes, the heart-ache has no pop psychology or New Age methodology.

Sometimes, the strong are those that rise and fall with the ebb and flow of this world He has given us…

While the weak play soldier, try to muscle through with demands, futile-ly holding a kind of false control of tomorrow…

And aren’t the real saints, those who accept His sovereignty, instead of formulating, dictating, playing god with His purposes?

I want what it means to follow God, don’t you? This surrender that calls me away from the comfort, out into open lands.

I want the night to alert me to His plans, while embracing full-breathe of what it means to really live.

After all, who walks perfect, without seeing His beauty in the shadows of the reality of suffering?

Oh Lord, give me your heart. A heart that does not callous itself to what true service and complete humility means.

I drive along the Highway, the one not seen by the well-traveled freeway.

It’s the old way, the ancient path, the route people used to use to get to the city we are entering…

A time before cell towers, paved roads, and the conveniences of stop and go lights telling us what to do.

It’s a place where artist are created, Indians lived wild and free, stillness is emulated…

Where few know, the actor playing Jesus in, “The Passion of Christ”, once lived in his youth.

The Most Beautiful Place on Earth

“It’s the most beautiful place on earth.” I tell my ten-year-old.

Choosing to see the day, choosing to find my way to thankfulness, despite my empty spaces…

Despite how this ache in the quiet might treat me…where nobody sees…

Where the little girl taped to my refrigerator no longer joins us in this beauty, playing amidst car rides, singing silly-songs, like these memories remind me.

Yet, God came down not just to “monitor” our holiness…

But that we might service Him with joyfulness, and in abundance. Delighting in Him, whatever this one humble life may bring…

“It is? How do you know?” She challenges.

“Oh sweetie, I have been to nearly all of the states, and to multiple countries… And from what I have seen, this is the most beautiful place on earth.” I share enthusiastically.

And I know it is grace I can say that, here in this heart of emptiness, this pain of a child taken…

A life changed. A ministry lived for His glory, not mine.

And anytime beauty can crack through an open heart, eyes have seen the good among the hurting. This is the place true, grace-filled, miracles come from.

And we have a choice in this life…

Deny, hide, run away, live in our own padded, cultivated reality….

Or grasp all He has given us; living bold, honest, transparent, 100% out of the very depths of this heart He has given us.

And yet, who does the later?

In a world of faces in screens, masked realities, watered-down sermons…Lives boxed in by a thousand devices encouraging us to numb and callous our one eternal souls we’ve been given…

Have we forgotten, Holy words….His grace is sufficient, especially in our weakness? 

Finally, I drop my child at school and return home. Heavens part. And this is where the cries of honest transparency comes…

Just then, rays of light shine where the fog had earlier struggled for hope in my weary soul.

And I know; No day, no weather, no aching, no hardship can resist the Light of His coming…

His joy can rise in the valley, at the bottom of the railroad tracks, in the harbor of this one, vulnerable, broken life we give Him…

And although our aching and disappointments, our losses, our questions, our uncertainty over situations seek to derail us…

We can trust The One who put the sun up in the sky, The One who knows the quiet “hard”, every difficulty and trial. 

For, He identifies with us, in and through it all…

And we can feel His presence, meeting and overtaking us..if we simply surrender to His Love.

Moving Forward

I look at her photo on our refrigerator when I get home. I say a prayer. For her and for every child God has chosen to place in these four walls.

Yes, hollow holes are made to lead us toward holiness, not away from it…

And we need not run from what He gives us, but turn our faces and walk through the seasons of wet grass, deep fog, and morning promises…

Slowly embracing and en-capturing ourselves with every moment and thought, every life and person He has allowed in our paths…

Every tender and perfect heart He graciously given us to love…

“We are not our own.” The words pierce through my questions, as I drive back up the hill, to the house He most generously has give us.

The back seat empty. That car seat still sitting staring at me.

And I keep it. Somehow knowing…

One day it will be filled again.

For amidst this journey, I give Him one more piece of myself. Whispering under my breathe…

“Yes. Lord, I am yours. And I will not escape this full life of mountains and trenches, highs and lows, beauty and purpose.”

Despite the fog, I see your rays…And I choose to live. I have tasted and seen your open heavens, and I will never be the same again. 

And I will not cut my life short, hide my face in my cell phone or some superficial model of what other people claim is a “good Christian”.

I choose your way, regardless of this hurting. Say “yes” because your thoughts are better, your ways are higher than this mere mortal can emulate…

And nothing can separate us from the fullness of your light and glorious love.

I look at her face on my refrigerator again. This time, a smile sweeps my face, uncontrollably.

“Yes, living, truly living, is always worth it,” I look out the window to clouds parting. A beautiful day beginning…

And give thanks for the chance to feel, the chance to be used despite my weaknesses.

His love, contagious…Empty spaces are what He uses.

I sit in His rest, listen to His whisper…“Yes, now I can begin to use you.”

His heart says among the crevasses, “An empty vessel poured out for love, delights the Father’s soul.”

I thank Him again, and look down in gratefulness. Turning away in hopefulness, knowing…

Empty places don’t always need filling.