Even in the Hollow Places

There are rooms in the heart

where chairs sit empty—

names we once whispered often

now echo like unanswered songs.

Miles stretch,

misunderstandings linger,

illness builds its silent walls,

and some doors close

with a softness that still stings.

Yet even here,

in the unlit corners where longing pools,

a strange warmth rises—

not from what is missing,

but from Who remains.

Like a lantern set on the inside

of a cracked vessel,

His presence fills the hollow

with a glow that does not fade.

I’ve learned that gratitude

does not wait for life to come together;

it grows like wildflowers

between the broken stones—

fragile, unplanned,

yet fiercely alive.

For the God who walks the lonely roads with me,

the One who said,

“I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee,”

writes His nearness into every silence.

And so the heart can give thanks

even with empty seats at the table—

for Love Himself sits near,

binding the unseen fractures,

breathing peace into the places

where human hands cannot reach.

Distance may stretch,

disappointment may bruise,

discord may divide,

illness may isolate—

but none of these

break the thread

He ties from His heart to mine.

And in that gentle,

ever-present communion,

Thanksgiving becomes

not a season,

but a quiet fire

burning steadily

within.

If this poem stirred something in your heart, remember that the deepest roots grow from God’s Word itself. “Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee” (Psalm 119:11). If you’d like simple, practical help in tucking Scripture into memory…

👉 Sign up for the free FAST Crash Course in Bible Memorization: http://fast.st/cc/21419