So, a few days ago I posted about hanging upside down at the ankles and it continues to illustrate this little time period quite well. When you’re hanging upside down (or at least when I am), everything loose is going to fall out – no matter how much you will against it. I had all sorts of things stuffed in my pockets (not much, but a little money and a few confident answers about what I was “going to do next”) and I don’t think I’ll get right-side-up again until everything is laying on the ground. It’s a strange perspective – watching the things I hold dear dislodge from their safe hiding place and pass in front of my eyes, landing with a little thump just out of reach. Like on Saturday, when I found out my cousin can drive the tractor/trailer for my uncle (my current “job” as fieldhand) while he combines soybeans. Yes, it’s pretty cool… until I realized that my only job security is that he has to be in 2nd grade on weekdays. That’s a tasty piece of humble pie.

I wrote a lot about the idea of a la orden (the idea that whatever you have – material or otherwise – is meant to be given away through an intentional effort to be available) when I was in Honduras. I guess you could say this little upside down trick is reminding me that what I’ve got to give is Christ, always and only… even if my pockets are completely empty.

Here’s a song from Christa Wells that is simple and sweet and … speaks to the beauty of emptiness. Here’s the last little bit:

I haven’t been asked yet to walk the hard roads
Still there’s a sense of deep loss in my soul
In the middle of a party, I’ll just want to go
Home.

But ooh,
My bow is on the strings,
I’m beginning to learn where to find the words
To the song that emptiness sings
Ooh, bow is on the strings:

Glory to God! Glory to God!
This is how emptiness sings, oh,
This is how emptiness sings
Hmmm, hmmm

How Emptiness Sings from Northview Church on Vimeo.