The Empty Chair
Is there room for God at your table?
By guest writer Kim Erickson
Have you ever saved a seat for someone? I did once – and it ended in heartbreak.
I painted the picture accompanying this blog post during one of the most difficult periods in my life – as I was grieving an adoption that didn’t happen.
It represents the literal chair that is empty at my table.
It’s a chair that I was convinced that God was going to fill – a chair that I felt God was calling me to fill.
Yet He didn’t fill it with a child.
The chair symbolizes the commonality that we all have: loss and pain despite begging for God’s help.
What is your empty chair?
Is it a marriage that ended in divorce, the death of a child, the slow loss of spouse or parent to dementia, a foreclosure, a natural disaster that took everything, or something else?
The pain of these empty chairs pierces our souls. These empty chairs leave a lot of questions -- and very few answers.
Why didn’t God change the outcome? He could have but He didn’t.
After I painted this piece, I thought about it often. Then one day, God spoke deep within my heart. He told me that the chair was not empty. He revealed to me that He is sitting in the chair.
I painted the picture accompanying this blog post during one of the most difficult periods in my life – as I was grieving an adoption that didn’t happen.
It represents the literal chair that is empty at my table.
It’s a chair that I was convinced that God was going to fill – a chair that I felt God was calling me to fill.
Yet He didn’t fill it with a child.
The chair symbolizes the commonality that we all have: loss and pain despite begging for God’s help.
What is your empty chair?
Is it a marriage that ended in divorce, the death of a child, the slow loss of spouse or parent to dementia, a foreclosure, a natural disaster that took everything, or something else?
The pain of these empty chairs pierces our souls. These empty chairs leave a lot of questions -- and very few answers.
Why didn’t God change the outcome? He could have but He didn’t.
After I painted this piece, I thought about it often. Then one day, God spoke deep within my heart. He told me that the chair was not empty. He revealed to me that He is sitting in the chair.
The Creator of the Universe said He was sitting in my chair.
He filled the emptiness with Him.
Am I able to accept that?
Some days-- yes. Some days -- no.
He filled the emptiness with Him.
Am I able to accept that?
Some days-- yes. Some days -- no.
_ Madeleine L’Engle calls herself a “struggling Christian.” If you read her works, you will find that she has great depth as a Christian thinker. Yet she calls herself struggling. I can sure relate to that. And this is where I struggle: accepting that God is enough; accepting His plan; accepting that He has allowed pain and loss into my life.
So each day, I have to wake up and struggle to believe. I must by faith believe that He is enough and He loves me. I struggle to find all fulfillment in Him. I must try to avoid finding it in the things and people around me that deceptively seem so sure, so permanent.
If there is an empty chair in a room, it is inviting even welcoming.
So each day, I have to wake up and struggle to believe. I must by faith believe that He is enough and He loves me. I struggle to find all fulfillment in Him. I must try to avoid finding it in the things and people around me that deceptively seem so sure, so permanent.
If there is an empty chair in a room, it is inviting even welcoming.
My family and I recently attended an event to celebrate the Chinese New Year and culture.
The free event was packed – not one empty seat in the house. Those standing were forced to leave in order to comply with the fire code.
I humbly have to admit that if all the chairs in my life were full like that event – there might be no place for God.
The free event was packed – not one empty seat in the house. Those standing were forced to leave in order to comply with the fire code.
I humbly have to admit that if all the chairs in my life were full like that event – there might be no place for God.
The most amazing part of this idea is that if God is sitting in our chair, it means that our loss and pain do not separate us from Him. They only give Him a way to be even more intimate with us. The empty chair of our pain gives Him a place to sit in our hearts and minds.
As an artist, I always try to visualize things.
When discouragement sets in, I close my eyes and try to imagine what God sitting in my chair really looks like.
Isaiah had a vision of this. He writes: “I saw the Master sitting on a throne—high, exalted!—and the train of his robes filled the Temple. Angel-seraphs hovered above him, each with six wings. With two wings they covered their faces, with two their feet, and with two they flew. And they called back and forth one to the other, Holy, Holy, Holy is God-of-the-Angel-Armies. His bright glory fills the whole earth.”
As you are faced with loss and pain – know this: that God is sitting there with you. He loves you and He is enough.
As an artist, I always try to visualize things.
When discouragement sets in, I close my eyes and try to imagine what God sitting in my chair really looks like.
Isaiah had a vision of this. He writes: “I saw the Master sitting on a throne—high, exalted!—and the train of his robes filled the Temple. Angel-seraphs hovered above him, each with six wings. With two wings they covered their faces, with two their feet, and with two they flew. And they called back and forth one to the other, Holy, Holy, Holy is God-of-the-Angel-Armies. His bright glory fills the whole earth.”
As you are faced with loss and pain – know this: that God is sitting there with you. He loves you and He is enough.
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Kim Erickson lives in Tennessee with her husband, Mark, and three children. She has a Master's Degree in Journalism and has worked in communications, government and politics. She is currently a stay-at-home mom and is pursuing her God-given love of painting and works primarily in acrylics and mixed media.
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Here are some Bible verses that'll help you on your journey:
Revelation 3:20-21 The Message
"Look at me. I stand at the door. I knock. If you hear me call and open the door, I'll come right in and sit down to supper with you. Conquerors will sit alongside me at the head table, just as I, having conquered, took the place of honor at the side of my Father. That's my gift to the conquerors!
Psalm 23 The Message
God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I'm not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd's crook
makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I'm back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.
Romans 8:35-39 The Message
Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture: They kill us in cold blood because they hate you. We're sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one. None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.