Where the Water Has Receded

Jordan Lake State Recreation Area— North Carolina

Sitting with Emptiness

As I am writing this, North Carolina is in a drought at the moment but I had no idea. The winter season and drought have never been connected in my mind, so when I read the comments of the weather forecaster this morning I confess I raised an eyebrow. Tomorrow’s forecast is for rain and it is apparently “much needed” as a cold front moves in. Who knew? Obviously not me.

But then I thought about the Jordan Lake hike again, and of a photo of the lake that I had taken where I’d stopped to have lunch. I had given it the caption “Where the water has receded.” I had noticed the effects of the drought without an awareness of it. As I sat there, it had been barely sprinkling, which was causing little concentric circles in the water as the droplets fell. There was something oddly settling about it. I knew there was something significant in the moments I was experiencing but in what way I could not say.

As I see it now, the timing of the memory could not be more perfect.

The lessons of shedding and re-establishing rhythms are still fresh in my mind at the turn of this new year. Many who are a part of Christian church culture enter into a season of fasting, setting aside those things which distract in order to seek God with renewed attention. Some may choose to go without full meals or certain foods, while others give up television, entertainment, social media…the list can be endless. The idea is to seek God first, to want Him more than we want what we are giving up. It sounds simple enough in theory, but more difficult to walk out moment by moment. Why?

We are unaccustomed to having any time in our day that we are not doing something, to the point that we combine work obligations with time we are spending with family or friends. Every waking minute of every day is filled with something or multiple somethings to be done. We immediately answer any feeling of hunger with a meal or a snack. We fill every silence with headphones in our ears or a TV playing in the background. It is the culture we live in. And it has trained us to resist emptiness…in pretty much any form. And yet, we FEEL it, don’t we? Even in the context of filled calendars, filled stomachs and filled silences, we feel the excruciating void of being incomplete and unsatisfied. How is it possible?

Sitting with these questions, I go back now to that memory of sitting by Jordan Lake at the place where the water had receded. Why was I drawn to it? 

I believe my spirit knew I was looking at a 3-D image of my own heart and it was urging me to remember that I’ve experienced seasons of emptiness and drought like this before. Each one has brought something new to my attention. Sitting by the receding water of Lake Jordan the Holy Spirit reminded me that when I come to a place of emptiness in my life, it is of benefit to me to pause and sit with it long enough to let God speak to me about it. A couple of things stand out to me this time around.

Observation 1: At the place where the water had receded, the lake bed was exposed. I could see what was previously hidden underneath when the lake was full. 

It has been my experience that the emptiness that comes from loss or letting go also exposes what may be hidden in my heart underneath the surface.  It’s important that I understand though, that when God brings attention to the hidden things in my heart that I may not want to look at,  it isn’t to shame me, but rather to sit and look at them with me. He wants to remind me of who He is and who I am in Him. It is at that point that I have the opportunity to invite Him into my emptiness. Consider the heart of the Psalmist in Psalm 139:23-24 (TPT):

“God, I invite your searching gaze into my heart. Examine me through and through; find out everything that may be hidden within me. Put me to the test and sift through all my anxious cares. See if there is any path of pain I’m walking on, and lead me back to your glorious, everlasting way—the path that brings me back to you.”

This invitation reminds me that when I come to a place of emptiness in my life, I need to resist the urge to fill it on my own. I cannot receive His fullness if I am never willing to sit with God in my emptiness. In other words, I cannot be full of Him, if I am full of me.

Which leads me to Observation 2: The line where the water had previously been was very well-defined. There was no mistaking that the lake had once been more full.

When I am willing to press the pause button on the movement in my life, there is no mistaking when I am spiritually and/or emotionally empty. Yet, I believe there are seasons in my life that I would never suspect that I am in a spiritual drought. I mean, who would think that when there are so many good things taking place, so many obvious blessings pouring into my life, that I might be internally empty and absolutely unaware that I am? Still it is undoubtedly true. And I suspect I am not the only one. Given the culture, it is not really so surprising. We FEEL the effects of the emptiness whether we are aware of it or not, and left on our own, we will fill all the empty spaces with meaningless distractions and unhealthy relationships. Why? Because we believe all emptiness is bad…every lonely feeling is bad…every painful emotion is bad. But I’m remembering now what I know after so many years of walking with Jesus, and still so easily forget. The prophet Habakkuk reveals this truth that has been with humanity over many lifetimes:

“…the peoples weary themselves only for emptiness, falsity, and futility? But [the time is coming when] the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” (Habakkuk 2:13b-14 AMPC)

The truth is there is beauty in the emptiness. When I feel empty, it means I have capacity for more of God in my life. It means I have space to be filled yet again with the wonder of Who He is. When I am willing to acknowledge that I am empty and then allow myself to sit with it, I discover more about my own heart and the deepest places underneath the surface that need healing and filling in a way that can only be satisfied by Him. In those moments, I discover something more about the heart of God and His nature…the glory of Who He is. I see the ways I am not like Him and yet hear Him say “I can fill that space to overflowing with the healing waters of Who I am…if you’ll let Me.” 

Isn’t it interesting? I can fill the empty spaces in my heart and life myself, and they will appear to be full but will not be whole. Unhealthy behaviors and attitudes will leak out from all the broken, painful places revealing the truth of it. BUT, if I will simply acknowledge the places where I am empty, examine them WITH God and allow Him to fill them with more of Who He is, His fullness will heal those same broken places giving me the capacity to hold more of Him. I will not leak, but instead I will overflow.

The truth is we can’t always be full. Live enough life pouring out OR leaking out, you’ll still find yourself in a place of feeling empty again. I know that seems like a statement of futility but then I think about those little concentric circles made by the raindrops falling on the lake. They all began from one center made by the force of one drop of rain, the circles enlarging with the movement. If in the emptiness I will remember Who is at the center of my life, and go to Him sooner rather than later, His fullness will always enlarge me in some way. There is sheer joy in knowing that, isn’t there? My capacity for Him is constantly being enlarged as I find myself empty. When I have Him I already have what I need. HE is the healing rain for every moment of emptiness, every season of drought that my heart will ever experience.

I’m remembering, at this moment, that months ago I prayed, asking God to expand my capacity for more of Him in my life. I didn’t realize that He was already doing what I’d asked as I resisted sitting with the emptiness I had been feeling. I was thinking He would stretch me. He was thinking He would empty me.

Now, I hear the Holy Spirit reminding me of the words of Isaiah, and I FEEL the hope in them:

“Let fall in showers, you heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness [the pure, spiritual, heaven-born possibilities that have their foundation in the holy being of God]; let the earth open, and let them [skies and earth] sprout forth salvation, and let righteousness germinate and spring up [as plants do] together; I the Lord have created it.” (Isaiah 45:8 AMPC)

And, now, I understand the oddly settled feeling I experienced at the place where the water had receded. My spirit knew that the emptiness was making way for the Healing Rain that ultimately brings wholeness and the capacity to be filled with more of Him. And that’s what I really want.

So, here I sit in the emptiness, but no longer resisting. Here I sit, more aware of the drought I have been in. The spiritual forecast is for Healing Rain to fall and fill me again. Who knew? Obviously, HE did!

Circles on the water