Formless and empty

Under the hovering presence of God

As many folks are doing, I began the new year reading the designated passage in a new Bible reading plan. Actually, I began reading the passage on New Year’s Eve, hoping to make the most of having extra time at home over the holiday break. I don’t approach Bible reading plans with a whole lot of motivation, knowing well the number of times I began one at the start of a year only to abandon it a few months later. But I have sought to be more consistent with reading Scripture over the past couple of years, after several years where my capacity to enter into God’s Word felt greatly diminished.

So here I am these first days of the year, reflecting on Genesis 1:1-2 —

“Now the earth was formless and empty…and the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.”

Photo by Jan Huber on Unsplash

The days and weeks and months laid out in front of me for 2026 are currently “formless and empty,” with no definitive shape or completed agenda. Sure, there are some plans on the calendar, a general framework for how I want to approach my ongoing responsibilities, and a couple of hopeful opportunities for fun and growth. But like you, I already sense the reality of the unknown and unexpected, and how disruptions and distractions are inevitable.

In considering the earth’s unfolding in Genesis, I am drawn to the way it speaks of God’s Spirit “hovering over the surface of the waters.” Amidst what was dark, formless, and absent of life, God’s presence spread over it all. Before the distinction of darkness from light, and before the separation of water from land, God’s presence unfurled across the expanse. It is in this description I find comfort in God’s greatness, that he not only knows what the year ahead holds for me but that he has already promised his presence in it. I imagine him, hovering over my days, walking with me in what is unknown and unexpected.

As a girl, I watched the original Anne of Green Gables series so frequently I had several lines memorized. During the scene when Miss Stacy (Anne’s teacher and mentor) is bidding farewell to Avonlea just after Anne and Gilbert have completed their Queens entrance exams, she says to Anne, “I want to remind you of something you once told me. ‘Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.’” Friends, we often live under the weight of our past circumstances and our poor decisions. Sometimes nagged by what we had no control over, and other times plagued by regrets over what we knew better of but chose anyway, we face the new year assuming it will be like the last — or worse, perhaps. Miss Stacy was assuring Anne, using Anne’s own words ironically. But we have something much more assuring. We have a guarantee from the God who hovered over his creation with all authority and compassionate mercies¹, that we can begin again. Let us enter into what is formless and empty with courage and anticipation — not of what lies ahead, but of who has already gone before it and promises to companion us in it. Thanks be to God!

1. Lamentations 3:22-23