Emptiness

A man who keeps a diary pays,
Due toll to many tedious days;
But life becomes eventful—then,
His busy hand forgets the pen.
Most books, indeed, are records less
Of fullness than of emptiness.
~William Allingham

I have been considering emptiness lately. I think this poem is true. There really is nothing so solitary as writing, except perhaps for reading. I really cannot interact with another person when doing either. Perhaps this is why I blog? So much time spent in front of a computer screen trying to connect with someone in a virtual world and for what? Because it fills an emptiness within me? Does it really, or is it artificial? How many posts have I written? How many have I read? Far too many...far too much time spent...some on people who will never be my friends...some on friends I will never see in person even though they have been truly a blessing to me. Still, so much of it is emptiness that should have been filled...by my Lord. How many times did a seek a friend when I should have been seeking to be filled by Him. I have to ask myself in all honesty now: did I do any of it for my Lord? If not, what good has it been?

Empty Me by Chris Sligh

Empty me
Of the selfishness inside
Every vain ambition
And the poison of my pride
And any foolish thing my heart holds to
Lord empty me of me
So I can be
Filled with you

~ This day, my Lord, I wish to be emptied of me and filled with You. ~