Empty day

On days like this there is nowhere to go.

Pain runs deep, and there is no answer in sight. There is nothing to fight towards, nothing to be gained by working.

Instead there is emptiness; a deep, roaring chasm that every effort to smile or laugh, to cry or pray, slips down and is lost to time. There is emptiness, and the knowledge that nothing can fill that chasm, although on some days it can be avoided or even bridged.  The feeling that it is growing wider when it should be closing up, that even could I fill it, it would only break open again.

My heart longs for filling, just as the body longs for food during a long fast. It craves the things that were taken from it, moans for the restoration of those things which once brought respite, and the chasm cracks further as it beholds its own continued emptiness. Cracks again with the knowledge that even that which it longs for would fill only a small part of the crack.

There is nowhere to go.

So I wait, now. Curled up under the covers, nothing today calling me out to the wider world, nothing within me prepared to make the trip outside on its own. I wait, and the emptiness is filled with silence; silence which on its own does not break the crack open further. Silence which watches, and waits, and watches again, the still chasm surrounded by a sea of the things which once filled me. I choose silence because it brings the damage to a halt, like pressing pause on a movie; there is no going forward, nor going back, and stillness is akin to peace. I feel my mind grinding ever slower and I know that later, if I am asked a question, it will take a long time to answer.

Perhaps this will be my day today, lying here quiet, waiting for a time when pain is not master. Perhaps in the stillness something will be birthed; a spark of creativity that slowly blazes into a flame of hope, and draws my attention from the emptiness to the joy of new creation; or frustration which draws me away from the chasm towards the things that once meant much. Perhaps some fresh insight will come, a cry from the emptiness which has not been heard before, a little rent in the fabric of life that is small enough to handle today. Or a call will come from my Father, and in obedience I will sow seeds of prayer and blessing into the tears of the world around me.

As pain gives way to stillness I easily become bored, and flail for something to distract me. Yet now I wait, because in the waiting there is space for Him to come. If He wishes it, to fill me, and fix the fault line that runs across my still breaking heart; if not, to pour out grace that will enable me to stand in spite of the chasm within. I wait, and I wonder, and I wait again, knowing that He is rarely in a hurry, but that He will show up. At moments I break the silence and plead for the things I long for, knowing full well that this is a void they cannot fill. Then, once again, I wait.

There is nowhere to go. Nowhere to be, and nothing worth having that I have the strength to fight for.

Here in the desert, the chasm stretching before me, I wait quietly to see what He is going to do.
Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.' Psalm 27:14

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