Hollow

Hollow is not the way people usually describe themselves. In fact, that’s probably the last thing anyone would ever say. We spend much of our time trying to be anything but hollow, empty, lonely, and sad. We fill up with anything and everything else- music, movies, busy schedules, cute pictures of animals, hilarious memes, and mindless shows- anything that drowns out the actual truth. Some go much deeper with other things that seem to last longer or give more distraction to our minds and hearts, but it just leads to alcoholism, greed, gambling, drug use… It doesn’t matter what we try to use, it never lasts or gets rid of that feeling that we’re just plain missing something- another relationship, another answer, another fix- we’re just hollow. Too often, we simply go on trying to pretend that the feeling doesn’t exist- we don’t need anything or anyone and are doing just fine, thank you very much!

But I love this song because she isn’t even trying to hide or cover up the emptiness- she is outright admitting it. Admitting that she is fragile, and paper thin, breakable, and… hollow. That she needs something more than a quick fix, or a busy routine, or lot of noise to drown out the fact that she is lacking, wanting, inadequate. She is hollow.

But hollow does not mean pointless. Hollow does not mean hopeless. Hollow does not mean broken or unfixable. Hollow simply means that you have the capacity to be filled with something else greater than you.

I’ve heard it said that there is God-shaped hole inside of us that only He can fill, and though that is quite cheesy, the older I’ve gotten the more I believe it. Because somehow God can reach a deep, inner unsettled longing inside of us that no one else can. He can hit a craving like a sweet ice-cream cone, a loneliness because He knows us better than we know ourselves, a fear or struggle because He can carry any burden, and wraps it all up in a sweet embrace all at once. Suddenly, we are full of someone that sustains, and quenches, and renews all that was scared and empty and alone. Full of something that never gives up, never tires, never feels sick, never hates it’s job which is to replenish, re-break, redo, and remake you. And no matter how many words I use to describe it, knowing God personally and letting Him fill you up instead of the things around you is even better than that.

But the hardest part, I think, is letting Him. Drowning out the noise, slowing down the pace, letting go of everything else you use to define, and sustain, and wet your appetite, and admitting to God that you just plain need Him. I bring up this topic not because I’m good at it, but because I am so good at ignoring it. So good at getting trapped in a busy thought worry train planning strategies for everything except how to admit and ask for more than the emptiness, and settling, and fear. It actually took me about 6 years of my adult life to understand that when people said “rest” they literally did not mean “do a different activity,” because that was all I knew- how to run myself ragged trying to get away from the emptiness. One of the hardest things God ever told me was that He loved when I would sit in my room sobbing in frustration- not because He loved to see me cry, but because it was only when I got that broken and overwhelmed that I would admit that I needed Him. And it was only then that He could fill me up.

And the best part of it all, is that when you do admit you need God, there are no side effects. No hangovers. No organ damage. No fine print. He responds to our need, our weakness, our fragility with love no matter what. And because we admit we are paper thin, He really does make us whole again.

 Ephesians 3:17-19- “And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”