Heart Holes

Do you ever just randomly “meet” someone on social media and instantly fall in love?

Yeah, me too.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t even remember stumbling across Hannah Brencher on Instagram–but at the time I was fairly certain that I’d been following her account for several months, under the assumption that she was a poet…/photographer…/I don’t really know what I thought she was.

But, anyway.

As I snuggled between my cool sheets one night, I continued my bad habit of checking social media before falling asleep (because, I mean, what if another person I know got engaged, and I didn’t see it? Isn’t that the equivalent of “does a tree falling in the forest really make a sound if no one is there to hear it?” I know, I know, I jumped on that bandwagon and can’t complain anymore!)

Just as I was about to swipe out of the app and turn out the lights, I saw Hannah Brencher’s post:

“I cared more about followers than actually following something with my whole life.” 

Below that it read, “link in profile.”

So, of course I had to follow the link…

to her blog.

Where I fell more in love with the heart behind this woman I’ve never met. (read it for yourself here).


Hannah spoke of her own experiences, but her fun and eloquent writing unearthed some thoughts and feelings that I’ve been experiencing lately:

I have a hole in my heart.

This hole is abstractly shaped because the only thing that can truly fill it does not have a physical form. And let me tell you, worldly things can’t fill this hole.

Not guys.

Or food.

Or good grades.

Or exercise.

Not compliments or rules.

Not gossip.

Or friends.

Not accolades or accomplishments.

Not distractions.

Not social media followers.

And trust me, I’ve tried to shove all of these things and more into my gap, in different combinations and arrangements–but it’s like trying to force a square peg into a circular hole. Hammer away all you want, but it doesn’t work.

Actually, I have several heart holes.

Holes that need love.

Holes that need hope.

Holes that need acceptance.





The list goes on and on. And over and over again, I find myself stuffing worldly materials into the hole, desperately trying to fill the emptiness. What’s more is that sometime I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

And then at some point, I trip over myself and fall flat on my back. And suddenly God is standing over me with a scalpel in hand, sawing open my sternum to pry out the junk I’ve jammed into my empty spaces. I try to resist. “No, God, I’ve got this! I’m okay! Don’t make me empty again…”

And you know what He says?

“I am your portion. I am enough. I won’t leave you empty.”

St. Augustine once wrote, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

We cannot fill our heart holes on our own. We were made for God and, therefore, only he can fill us. He is the key to our lock.

Jeremiah 29:13 says,

“Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.” 

And sometimes I have a problem with that.

Because I love a lot of people and a lot of things. And if God is the only thing that can fill my holes, then I have to loosen my death grip on those other things. It means I have to empty myself in order to make room for God’s fullness and love

But that, my friends, is an incredible thing.

I love how Hannah ended her blog post with the idea of love–so much, in fact, that I’m stealing it right now:

“Love is forgiveness. And it’s atonement. And it’s basically like putting your soul in a washing machine– it’s not some gentle cycle, it’s a fierce whipping that rings you out good.

It makes the stains fade.

Best of all, it fills the holes.”



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