As much as I value empty spaces, there is yet more that I crave - sacred ones. While an empty space creates an opening for God to work, a sacred space is one where He is already working. Both are important.
I've talked about seasons as this year draws to a close, about how they always lead from one thing into another. They're always preparing us for the next one, whether we understand how or what or why. I think that's the use of sacred spaces; they are the bridge from yesterday to tomorrow, built over the holy waters of today.
It's because that place where God is already working becomes the very thing you hold onto, instinctively. God comes and begins to do the very thing you hoped He'd do, or at least you recognize that what He's doing is powerful...and good. And you grab hold with all you've got because you don't want to miss this thing. It is with this firm grip that you understand the things you're able to let go of, the season you're willing to let pass. And it is with this very hold that you know you're headed toward something greater. Like a vine over the crick (that's hillbilly for 'creek,' sort of..), the sacred space is what gets you from here to there. Or from there to there. Or from wherever you've been to wherever you're going.
Sacred space doesn't have to be anything special. That is, it won't always feel so grand. It doesn't even necessarily feel different. It's not that the space itself is holy; it's that it is wholly God's. That makes is something special. That makes it sacred.
I am struggling this morning to write this. I'm struggling this morning to write anything. And I think it's because I find myself in this sacred space, and it's tough to know what to do with that. I'm in this place where God is moving and I've caught hold of His motion in my life and I'm not willing to let go. But that means I'm letting go of other things and swinging into the empty spaces (as discussed yesterday). Which is awkward because I'm a girl always looking for a place to put my feet down and right now, it doesn't feel like there's a place to land. And yet, this is a holy motion so I'm not sure I'd want to, as much as my restless soul craves such a very thing.
Nobody ever promised this dance would be pretty.
So that's kind of where I'm at - hungry for God in the midst of His feast, thirsty as He pours living water into my life. Aching to speak with Him; longing to listen. It stings, but I love it here.
As I sat to write, I thought this post might take another direction, leading into the creation of sacred spaces - those places in your lives that are set aside for one thing. Just one thing. I've been thinking about that for days, about how weird it is sometimes to live dorm-style like I do, with all my stuff crammed into one room. About how the space in which I write is the same space in which I sleep and watch TV and fix my hair in the mornings and pray and read my Bible and eat my lunch. And I've wondered what it might mean to make some of that space sacred. That is, to set it aside for just one thing.
And that is it, isn't it? That's what sacred space is - it's space set aside for just one thing. Or rather, for One Thing. God. For holy. It's space sanctified for God's presence, for God's promise. For God to be working in you and in your life. That's all that sacred space is; it's a place we recognize and set apart to give wholly to Him. That He might make it holy.
That it might, indeed, be sacred.
I don't know what God will make of my empty spaces in the year to come, or even in the years. But I have a sense of what He's doing in this sacred space. That's enough to hold onto for now.