Serve the Lord Who Fills the Hole

By AbbyA

Lady in Waiting and In the Waiting . . . For me, I was a young woman, late-teens/early-twenties who had an eraser-on-the-top-of-a-pencil sized hole in my heart. That means that the hole was small, but really needed to be filled. I had a daddy a few states away and a fairly sucky step dad at home . . . I was accustomed to the little hole in my heart. Of course, I didn’t have enough objectivity to see my hole; Satan used it as a playing field and, thankfully, my Lord protected me until I was spiritually ready to receive His healing.

So, late-teens/early-twenties girl ran her life. Working hard, studying hard. I had deep girl-friendships. Had a pretty great boyfriend (who turned out to be my husband). But I had this little hole in my heart. What was the harm of the hole? It transfigured itself into my life as attention. Yes, the hole really liked to be flattered by guys. There are all types of girls running around with a hole in their hearts. Mine didn’t lead me to sleep around or to drugs. Mine didn’t make me jaded or anti-male race. Mine just wanted attention.

What was the harm of the hole? Get it? That’s what Satan made me believe about the attention. What’s the harm of setting out to get attention? Since I hadn’t been really informed of my hole, I just kept on desiring and getting attention. And didn’t really get the harm at all.

I’m not one for reliving the sin. So, I will pass on the unnecessary details and give you one example of the harm of the hole. Trotting around Coconut Grove with best friend. Seeing someone that caught my eye. Setting out to catch his eye. Liking that I caught his eye. Carrying on for a few hours. After all the lead-on, abruptly leaving with a smile. I am way over hiding the truth, so I will add that there are way worse illustrations than abruptly leaving with a smile. The fact of the matter is that at the end of the day, I wasn’t interested in sex at all. It is no fun asking his roommate to drive you home because you really aren’t up for living up to his expectation after all that . . . attention.  Maybe I wanted to see if the guy would try for a kiss. I am not even sure that I wanted a relationship or a friend. I just wanted to be sure that I had the attention of whomever I wanted attention from whenever I wanted it. Man, what a self-serving hole I was serving.

What was the harm of the hole? Killing my boyfriend who really wanted all of my attention. Hurting my best friend who was more deserving of my attention. Hiding from my mom who knew that I was hiding from the hole. Naively hurting my soul by my endeavors to fill it up.

Where does all this fit? Well, it is the month of males. It is the month of admissions, looking back, going forward. So, what did ever happen to that hole in my heart? God showed me it. It took me some time to unravel the consequences of a lifetime of seeking and getting attention. It took me a few years to hear what God was saying to me about why I did what I did. It took sacrifice, crying out to God, a lot of fasting, trusting the one who is trustworthy. Shedding all those years of lack of attention that led to all the years of looking for attention.

I have learned that none of us has perfect lives. We have failures, imperfections, built-in nonsense that we were born with or born into. If you didn’t already notice, this is not heaven. I don’t mean to belittle your pain or mine. But, the fact that this it is not heaven, is the point. This is where we stumble and fall, bruise, bleed and fully embarrass ourselves and our creator on a regular basis. This is also the place where we get to choose. We can choose to blindly serve the hole or intentionally serve the God who can fill the hole. The journey is from empty to full. The adventure is the faith to believe that there is a face to our faith, and then, getting to see His face. I hate the hole, but I love the God who has a plan to fill it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s