nothingness.

Last Sunday, I did something really spiritual.

I went to a local woman’s home named Joanie and fed 35 fellow Charlotteans who are homeless. I didn’t take my usual Sunday afternoon nap that day, nor did I go home after church and slip into my track pants and husband’s baggy t-shirt, as is my custom. Instead, I slopped food into compartmentalized Styrofoam plates that clearly exceeded their weight limit.

But before you award me the “Most Likely to Become Spiritual” award and start clapping and cheering for me, let me just tell you the gut-level truth.

I really didn’t want to go.

I was having one of those days. I was tired and weary, if not borderline sick. I was emotionally drained and spiritually dry. I really didn’t have anything to give, and the last thing I wanted to do was go and give some more.

The. Last. Thing.

But it was more than just that.

I think you should know that I am really lame when it comes to serving people. Super lame. Not only is it not my spiritual gift, but it is also not something I am used to doing…ashamed, as though, I am to admit it. I’ve lived many years in a comfortable pew without being asked to do very much for God…and honestly, I’ve liked it that way.

I admire my believing-counterparts who have such ease with their service and have an acute sensitivity to the hurting. I wish I had their abilities in this area and could serve with such effortlessness. Instead, I am so lame when it comes to serving that I am a cross between an awkward middle schooler and a newborn fawn…totally insecure and completely self-conscious…and really wobbly when out of my safe and natural environment.

I could fill this post with many more details about last Sunday’s mission project. But you know the drill, I can imagine. I came, and I served food. I met some new faces and had some conversations. I was simultaneously convicted about how much I have and reminded of how important it is to do God’s work, no matter how it is presented to me. All of these things.

But on this particular day, what was most impactful to me was the 10 minutes between the informal backyard hellos and the slabs of store-bought carrot cake being hoisted onto plates of hungry people: Joanie’s message.

I’m not sure who Joanie had in mind when she prepared her message. I kind of doubt it was intended for me, especially since we had never met. And unless she was The Great Invisible Eavesdropping Woman, she wasn’t around when I whispered to God in the kitchen just moments prior… "Please, Lord. Say something I need to hear. Bring me a word from You. Because right now, I’ve got nothin.’ ”

Joanie spoke from Hebrews, and God spoke through her, straight to my heart. Here were her points, with my paraphrase and in no particular order…

Don’t quit.

Be grateful.

Trust God.

Have joy.

Live love.

A few minutes later, after the food was served and the service had wrapped, Joanie and I were in the kitchen. With tears in the brim of my eyes, I told her how much her message meant to me and how God had used her to speak to my heart. It was then that she turned to me and said something I didn’t expect… “I’m so glad, honey, because I didn’t have anything this morning. I told God, “you are gonna have to give me something because right now, I’ve got nothin.’ ”

The familiarity of her words surprised me...confused me...and comforted me, all at the same time. But one thing was for sure...I knew they were not uttered out of sheer coincidence because that is just not His style.

Even as I write this, I am reminded of Joanie’s words. And over a week later, they seem to be, yet again, right where I am.

Don’t quit. Over the past month, I’ve resigned my life like 3,000 times.

Be grateful. I have so much, yet I want another couple of things to decorate my house with.

Trust God. Wow. I think sometimes I’m better at almost anything else.

Have joy. I have had some serious pity parties lately.

Live love. I am a professional receiver and a farm-team giver.

Listen…I am a strong woman, but sometimes this faith journey kicks my butt. I’d like to believe I’m willing to live a million moments serving God, even if that means I feel really awkward and out-of-the-norm doing it.

But sometimes, that’s just not the case.

The thing is, I’m realizing that I have to first run out of things to say so He can actually speak through me. I’m understanding that when I am at the place where quitting seems like the most plausible option, there is newfound room for Him to give me a much better one.

It is the place of “nothingness.” And it is the place, I am learning, that I most need to be .