Despair? No Emptiness. Heartache? No Emptiness. Grief? No Emptiness. For I have felt all these, made them part of my being, released them and now all that remains is emptiness.
It is as if someone has pierced my heart, dug around and taken all the very best of me. All that was good, gentle, caring, full of love and grace and stole them like a cunning and baffling villain. Now all that remains is hollowness, a house that has been swept clean. A house being prepared for renovation. Emptiness.
Tears fill my eyes and yet all I feel is emptiness. Its expanse is great. One tear falls from my cheek. I feel it not. As the wetness of this tear drops to the floor and breaks morphing into microscopic other tears the reverberation is deafening. How can something extremely small and seemingly insignificant create such an overwhelming impact? Emptiness. Emptiness allows for the sound to echo and carry and sing its song of lamenting, lingering in the corners, in the shadows finding only emptiness.
How long must I carry this emptiness? How long must I wait? Who or what is calling for me, to me? I know it and yet I do not. There is a nagging at the back of my mind as if a dream that I have long forgotten but is begging to be remembered. I desperately try to get to it and in my desperation all that I find is emptiness. Hollow emptiness.
I am like a house divided. Part of me mourns for what was and what can never be. Life is not static, it is ever-changing and still as much as I know this to be true I want to cling to what is familiar. What is familiar is easy. It is known. Sometimes there is pain and yet there is safety in the comfortableness. This is not living. This is emptiness. The other part of me wants to take the fear I have by the hand like a small child and show them all the wonderful and beautiful adventures that are waiting to be had, to fill the emptiness.
All I can hope for, all I can pray for is that in this emptiness I will find me. Not who I am but who do I want to be. Everything is empty, wide open waiting to be filled with something greater, grander then what was before. In this emptiness there is some small lurking of hope that I can be me. That I am wounded and exposed, waiting for renovation and in this renovation a filling up, of becoming whole, of living a life without boundaries or limitations. To fill the emptiness with a sense of being that is filled with light and happiness, strength and goodness, completeness and satisfaction and utterly blissful contentment. Take this emptiness from me Father. I surrender myself to You. Let the renovations begin.
Oh how beautifully stated. It is from this vantage point that one can look out and begin to fill up with truths rather than illusions.