“I gave you empty stomaches in every city and lack of bread in every town, yet you have not returned to Me.” (Amos 4:6 NIV)
If I am understanding Amos correctly, the people of God loved to worship; they adored the rituals and the routines. They loved worship so much that they worshipped many gods. They weren’t exclusive with Yahweh, but polytheistic; happy to bow down before anything that set itself up as a God.
Before we choose our stones and start chunking, we must examine our own hearts and lives. Dick Brogden writes and slices just a bit deeper “People love to worship, we were created for this purpose. Unfortunately, we often worship foolishly.”
I need only to open my own cupboards and closets, to glance over my bookshelves, to consider my online streaming cues and assess my screen usage to know that Mr. Brogden is right. We spend ourselves all too easily on foolish worship. Father, forgive us.
Amos issued God’s harshest word to the Israelites. He let them know that God was the One emptying and withholding, striking and plaguing, even overthrowing. (Keep reading Amos 4 and you will see the people’s plight.) God hoped that the Israelite’s emptiness would alert them to their spiritual need. Amos was downtrodden because it didn’t work. The Israelites invented other ways to self-soothe. And as a result, they would eventually meet God on His terms; far more frightening than meeting Him on our own terms.
I read this word today and it feels pointed. Just last night I was lamenting the lack of internet here in our hollow. I was griping, really. We’ve been here three months and I’m still not adjusted to the geographically enforced digital downshift. What’s more, our dear daughter moves away for school in one week. Our small world yawns empty in front of me without streaming services or even a stable cell phone connection. How will I cope with our encroaching emptiness?
The Lord pressed the answer into my hands through these verses in Amos. “Yet you have not returned to Me” is repeated five times and my heart asks; what is the antithesis of His statement? Turning toward Him, of course. Repositioning myself amidst our empty nest. Taking my mommy-sorrow (this strange elixir of joy and loss) right into His throne room. Refusing to distract or drown out or self-medicate my feelings, but laying the down at the feet of the One who can help me gain right perspective.
Empty places are opportunities to fill ourselves back up with God. I know this, but I also know such a turning is not my natural tendency. Oh no, my flesh says to go shopping and web-surfing and binge watch ‘This Is Us’ with a big pile of snacks until my feelings are buried beneath worship that doesn’t mean anything at all.
Instead, the Lord is asking us to take our emptiness to Him. He’s asking us not to bury it, but to fill it with more of His presence. Such filling is going to involve real worship: worship that costs us something. It’ll include hours in His Word and at His feet. It will cost songs of praise and worship when my heart isn’t quite yet there. It will require long prayer walks where the beauty of this desolate place can minister to my heart and fill the new void with His presence.
In empty seasons, we have opportunity to meet God on our own terms. We can choose Him instead of anything lesser. We can seize these seasons to grow our hearts for the One who matters most.
I still recall the Israelites at the beginning of their journey with a good and wholly available God. They were on the vast wilderness outside of Egypt: an emptiness far greater than the Bottoms or our sparse little nest. And the Lord promised to fill these set apart His people, to sustain them in even the most barren places. I have every reason to believe He will do the same for me in this next season if I’ll only turn toward Him and not away toward lesser gods.
“I am the Lord your God who brought you up out of Egypt. Open your mouth and I will fill it.” (Psalm 81:10 NIV)
Lord, please forgive us for all the ways we have worshiped lesser things. In this season of emptying, help us intentionally turn toward You. Pack any absence with Your companionship. Let our love relationship grow by leaps and bounds in this stretch of our story. Amen.