The Gift of Emptiness

About a month and a half ago, I was sick. I had a cough that would not subside and that kept me awake through the night. After the second night of this, I, slightly frustrated, asked our Lord what He was up to, and I put it on Him to carry me through the day. I reminded Him that I needed 8 hours of sleep in order to get my homework done, pay attention in-class, and love my housemates. And He said something to me that He'd first said to a good friend of mine: "Lynne, don't you think I know what you need?"

Oh wow, this made me smile. The moment this word sank into my heart, I knew I needed to repent from a lack of faith and grumpiness! Yes. Duh. The God that loved me into my existence and had given me every desire of my heart, the God who had met my every need, of course this God knew my need for sleep! After this revelation reprise, I saw each day that followed another nearly sleepless night as God's gift. For the next several days, I got used to feeling so incredibly empty yet so alive; I was becoming very sensitive to how much God's grace carried His poor, weak, selfish, beloved daughter. I was becoming intimately aware of God's desire to serve me. I revelled in my sleepless nights, feeling so special, so chosen to carry this cross which would surely bring me closer to my Lovely Father because He had chosen it for me. I even went so far as to begin asking God what He wanted me to do with the gift of my extra late night/morning hours: God, do You want me to pray for UCO? My family's welfare? Friends? Other UCOs? Show me. "Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord."

But, God is ever-mysterious, ever-wise. Not long after I experienced the brightness of God's face smiling on me in this new and beautiful valley, He showed me the way out rather quickly. Within the next two days, I slept through the night. This had not happened for two weeks. So I asked God again what was up. Why had He brought me into this valley and then so quickly kicked me out? I was really enjoying everything about the valley--the trees were green, no one else knew of it, the river was nice. In other words, I loved the intensity and creativity with which He was showing me that He alone was enough, and I didn't want this to dynamic to change.

Nevertheless, it did, maybe because I was getting too attached to it. In retrospect, He showed me two things. First, He had drawn me into the valley-desert so that I would turn to Him for all my delight. Second, He said that while He had suddenly and dramatically whisked me into a valley to show me that we are empty and broken vessels, we could and should choose to stay in the valley, that is, to rejoice in Him mindful of our profound need for His grace.

So, that has been my prayer throughout the past several weeks: "God, I don't feel empty, but I know I am. So, fill me! God I don't feel broken, but I know I am. Heal me!" I've realized how wonderful it is to run into the valley-desert rather than be dragged into it and then complain about it as I and every one of His children so often has. Only empty vessels need God's grace. Only the broken need a Savior. Praise the Lord (PTL, to some of you...) that we need a Savior and that God gently (and sometimes slightly less-gently!) shows us our need and desire for Him. St. Therese of Lisieux knew this "Little Way" to Jesus very well--this surrender, characterized by the image of a small child throwing its arms around the Father, confident of the Father's love.

So, as is becoming the norm, the Level 2 Challenge I pose is this: Could we actually ask to be led into the desert or valley, confident in God's love for us, His desire for more of us? Could we, with laughter, throw up our hands and "put it on" God to meet not just large needs but the small ones, too, the domestic details of our lives which we still often control, trusting that the more hand over, the more God will delight us with what He will return?


May God bless us this Lent with the gift of emptiness. May He makes us aware of our emptiness and the grace He perpetually showers down upon us. May He give us a spirit of gratitude for this grace. Amen.