I paced the living room, trying to avoid the pantry and the fridge since I’ve learned they don’t really comfort me anyway.
But this restlessness inside… I didn’t know what to do with it. There was a tightness in my chest, like the feeling I get when I should be working but I’m lingering on social media, a sense of duty, dread, anticipation, and future promise. I wanted to flop on the couch with a book to savor this moment of quiet thanks to my daughter’s afternoon nap, but that tightness in my chest kept me from it.
Again I paced, this time the kitchen floor, looking for something to alleviate this restlessness. I knew what it was. I recognized it from before. It was the Spirit’s calling, His beckoning me to come away with Him. I had been too busy, wrapped up in projects and trying to catch up on sleep, and there had been little time for quiet worship. But this fringe hour right here, this I could use for that very purpose.
But I had nothing to give God. I’ve been away for so long, that even the thought of singing a worship song out loud was exhausting. What use would He have for little ol’ me? My prayers would be lifeless. My worship lame. My attention span wanting. It’d be better to start fresh in the morning.
The tightness burned, cutting off my train of thought until I relented.
It was this quote the Spirit brought to mind that got me:
Just because your heart is cold and paperless, get you into the presence of the loving Father. As a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth you. Do no be thinking of how little you have to bring God, but of how much He wants to give you.
Andrew Murray, Lord, Teach Us to Pray
So quietly, apologetically, I made my way to the sunroom, sat down in the rocker, and whispered to the Father, “Here I am. I have nothing to bring You. No impressive prayers. No deep insights. No heart overflowing with praise. But I’m here. Because I need You.”
And it was as if the Father said to me, “Finally, you’re here. That’s all I want: you. I’ll give you everything else you need. Because even your praise, even your prayers, even your insights… they all flow out of me anyway. Don’t feel like you have to bring me a peace offering when you come to me. Jesus is your peace offering, and all is well.”
And that, my friends, is exactly what this weary heart needed to hear. Perhaps it’s what your heart needs, too.
Just because you don’t feel like going to God is the very reason you should get yourself into His presence. You don’t need to bring Him anything. Simply come to Him and you’ll discover, as did I, that He fills us up; that is the miracle that happens when we come empty and broken to Him.
When you feel like you have nothing to give God, simply say, “Here I am.” That is enough.