Faith on Empty

I ran out of fuel in the desert. I was empty. Miles of jagged rocks, scrub brush and sun-scorched soil dotted with saguaro cactus — and me. Alone. Sure, I had plenty of gasoline, but I had run out of the fuel that kept me running.

A lonely road outside of Tucson, Ariz., was the end of a journey that began months before. It had nothing to do with driving, however, and everything to do with my faith.

The journey began the day I said goodbye to California and hopped in a truck with Tucson in my sights. With each mile I was leaving further behind a pivotal phase of my life, as well as my mother, decade-long friendships and the sense of connection that comes with growing roots somewhere.

My brother lived in Tucson, and I looked forward to helping him launch a new business. I told friends the move was like jumping off a diving board in the dark — all you can do is trust that there is water in the pool.

Drought

A pool was about the only place I did find water in Tucson. Aside from the cameo appearance of a monsoon season thunderstorm, it was dry. But I also experienced a personal drought.

Everything I’d known for more than 10 years was gone. I had no close friends, no church home, no busy social calendar, no favorite places to go. I was unprepared for the emotional upheaval. At times I felt lost and battled insecurity. I felt like a loser during weekend nights spent alone. And in the midst of this, I grieved the recent death of my best friend and the breakup of a significant relationship. Both occurred right before I moved. God led me to the desert, literally and figuratively.

Then I found a friend. God had always been, well, God. He was a big part of my life for a few years, but I barely skimmed the surface of His being, and He was about to take me deeper.

Road trips

With more time alone, I began reading the Bible and praying more. Soon I developed extensive prayer lists for my family, the city, the country, the church, ministries and the media. I prayed like never before. I read books and began journaling, pouring out my heart and emotions. I talked to God wherever I was.

On weekends I often drove city streets from one end to the other or explored back roads. But I wasn’t driving alone anymore. God was always with me. He used my time without friends to wash away my insecurities. It was just Him and me, and it was good. God had been so many things: Counselor, Comforter, Provider, Guide. Now He was my friend.

Sometimes I planned day trips. I’d grab some snacks, turn up my car stereo and head out on a highway, returning hours later. On one of those drives, I pulled to the side of the road, and God opened my eyes to the truth He’d been teaching me. It happened the moment I realized that without Him, I was empty.

I stopped to take a few pictures and thanked God for another great drive together. As I declared He was my One and Only, He began to show me areas where my prayer and my behavior hadn’t lined up.

Love notes from girlfriends, compliments from co-workers, activities with friends and other sources of affirmation were food to satisfy a hunger for worth, self-esteem and security. I had used the words and companionship of others to define me, fuel me and fill me.

Dependence

I apologized to God and asked His forgiveness. Then I prayed that I would depend on Him alone from that day forward. God had stripped so much of my life away — yet I felt such freedom in that roadside moment. The stop in the desert shifted something inside me. It was the start of healthier relationships, greater peace, contentment and strength, and self-confidence rooted in Christ — my true fuel. I wasn’t just full; I was overflowing.