Facing the Empty Spaces

If you follow me on Instagram, you know that this year, Advent has me all in my feels.

Advent is my favorite time of year. It’s the four weeks before Christmas when we are invited to wait for Jesus to come into our lives, and prepare for his arrival. It’s a time of spiritual self-care and deep self-reflection.

This Advent, I keep coming back to this idea of empty spaces.

We all have empty spaces, though their exact shape and geography may differ from soul to soul. Every single one of us has deep longings, hidden griefs, or secret sorrows.

The joy of Advent is the promise that Jesus is coming, and he’s coming to fill our empty spaces.

He was born in a manger, after all, into the humblest of circumstances. He chose poverty for you and for me. He chose to show us that empty spaces don’t scare him, and he’s willing to enter into those very spaces to bring his light and his love.

The paradox of Advent is that we’re invited to examine our longings, griefs, and sorrows—all while rejoicing.

In order to experience new life when it comes, we have to actually admit that our empty spaces exist.

Rejoicing in the midst of my longing isn’t something I usually do because, to be honest, I don’t usually let myself feel how deep my longing goes. If I had to guess, my bet would be you probably don’t either.

But every year, Advent rolls around and I am struck by God’s gentle presence pulling me more deeply into my tender spaces, my deep longings, and secret sorrows. I’m struck by God’s sweet invitation into the desert of my own desire, never to wander aimlessly or alone, but always to be reminded by the still, small voice of the Spirit saying, these arid spots are exactly where I want to open springs of new life.

The truth about new life is that we have to admit we often choose old death.

In order to experience that new life when it comes (and it will come), we have to actually admit—to ourselves, to Jesus, and ideally to a trusted friend/counselor/mentor as well—that our empty spaces exist.

Here’s the truth, friend: it’s okay to not be 100% satisfied with your life. It’s okay to feel like you want more, even if you’re not completely sure what you’re looking for. It’s okay to ask God hard questions.

God can do anything, and what I think he most wants to do is satisfy the longings in our hearts. He wants to fill our empty spaces so that we are whole and healthy people. He didn’t create us for a stunted life, or to be mere husks. He created us for abundant life.

It’s okay to not be 100% satisfied with your life. It’s okay to feel like you want more, even if you’re not completely sure what you’re looking for. But you have to keep searching honestly and refuse to settle for counterfeit stuff.

In our screen-driven, fast-moving, convenience-obsessed age, we have to fight for the full life Jesus wants for us.

We have to courageously face the ugly, messy, hidden parts that don’t line up with the Instagrammable perfection we think is the gold standard of a good life.

We have to exercise discipline and delay gratification and work hard and act on what is truly important to us.

We have to stop falling into old habits and destructive addictions. I’m talking mindless screen scrolling or rom coms just as much as drugs or alcohol or porn. I’m also talking serial relationships and commitment-less sex and anything else we use to dull the edges of our longing for more.

You and I both have to admit: nothing but Jesus can fill our empty spaces. Not food, not alcohol, not hobbies, not Netflix, not books, not even exercise.

All these things are good but they are not our ultimate goal. They are not our biggest need.

Beyond our basic needs for food, water, shelter, and clothing, our biggest need is love.

We need to know that we are loved.

We need to know that we are precious and seen, known and wanted.

We need to know that we are willed, that our existence is on purpose and not just an accident.

We need, for once in our lives, to be loved and not just used.

Nothing but Jesus can fill our empty spaces.

And this, my friend, is what Advent is all about. During this sacred season, we get to choose to lay everything aside except our empty spaces and bring them lovingly and humbly to the feet of Jesus. We get to say—hopefully with our whole heart, but just a piece of our heart will do: “I need you to fill me up, Lord. You are the only one who can. I give you permission. I want to know your love, Jesus.”

I pray today that you have the courage it takes to get real with yourself and real with Jesus.

You are endlessly loved no matter what you choose.