
That’s just about where the gas gauge in my sons’ car is right now – a fact which made me a little nervous as I drove it this morning. I’ve decided that I will visit the nearby gas station before heading out to do errands this afternoon. Unless, that is, habit kicks in and I’m in Peach Jam, engine sputtering, before I remember my resolve...
Empty is scary. Not just in cars, but in everything from careers and finances to families and friendships – right down to the heart and soul. It puts us in situations we hadn’t anticipated and can’t control. Empty is needy – it doesn’t command the respect of others; rather, it puts us at their mercy. Empty is accusing – “Why didn’t I plan ahead?” It’s defeating – “Look around. No one else is sidelined like this.” And just unnerving: “You’ve got miles to go yet – and you’ve got nothing.”
It’s scary, that is, unless you do what Pastor Rick urged us to this past Sunday... bring the empty bucket to Jesus. And even then, we’re afraid of empty. Even with Jesus. It feels better to be busy with a ministry or planning a vacation or contemplating a job change – something to fill the void. Something we can hold up to Jesus and plead, “Lord, won’t You work with me on this?”
The woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment had an empty bucket. She’d spent all she had on physicians, and was still not healed. She had no more resources, likely no more alternatives. In the crowd surrounding the Master, she was the sputtering engine, the one sidelined, empty, frightened.
And she was the one who got the miracle.
Empty is no shame. After all, God can’t pour His riches into full hands! So let’s not try to deny it or hide it or substitute something – anything – to fill the void. Let’s let empty be a starting-place for Jesus, and for one long-awaited bucketful of miracle.