Lacking Something Is Not Always a Bad Thing

We rarely speak of lack without a shiver of anxiety. The word seems to point toward deficiency, scarcity, or failure. However, lacking something is not always a bad thing.

Lack is both a verb and a noun that can become a doorway to peace, clarity, and spiritual fullness.

When “Lack” is a Verb

As a verb, lack means “not having at the moment.” It is admitting that what we want has not yet arrived. It doesn't mean that it won't arrive when it is needed the most. Lack is a reaching, a longing, a holy hunger. It tells the truth about what is not yet present, and in doing so, it opens the door for what could be. As a verb, lack is a moment in motion, a space still unfolding. It names what has not yet come, not what never will.

Naming what we lack is often the first step toward receiving. It is the open hand. It is that quiet admission that we are not self-sufficient.

To say we lack something is not to despair. To say we lack peace is not to confess defeat. It is to open the door for peace to enter. Lack, as a verb, is not a verdict. It is an invitation.

When “Lack” Is a Noun

As a noun, lack becomes a place. In a culture obsessed with accumulation—more tasks, more noise, more urgency—lack can be a sanctuary. It is the quiet where presence gathers. The margin where blessing breathes. The uncluttered space where the soul can finally stretch out and rest.

Lack, as a noun, is not a deficiency. It is space for things to take place.

Sometimes the most sacred thing in our lives is not what we have, but what we don’t have.

Psalm 23

Psalm 23 holds a special place in my life. It was the first Scripture I ever preached from—the passage that carried me into the pulpit for the very first time 30 years ago. I didn’t know then how deeply those opening words, “I lack nothing,” would continue to shape my understanding of God, presence, and peace. Over the years, I’ve returned to that psalm again and again, discovering that the word “lack” carries far more meaning than we often allow. Sometimes lack is not a wound but a doorway. Not a deficit but a clearing. Not a threat but a gift.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I lack nothing.” — Psalm 23:1 (NIV)

Psalm 23 does not promise a life without emptiness. It promises a Shepherd who fills the emptiness with Himself.

Whatever we do not have does not diminish who we are or whose we are. Lack is not a threat. It is a space God inhabits.

The Shepherd does not remove every valley. He walks us through it. And in His presence, even the valley becomes a place where we lack nothing.

Lack is not always a void. Sometimes it is a vessel.

Blessings for the Places That Feel Empty

May the places where we feel lack become the places where grace gathers. May the empty spaces become invitations, not accusations. May we discover that what we do not have is sometimes the very thing that frees us. And may we walk with the Shepherd who ensures that, in Him, we truly lack nothing.

Psalm 23 is not just a passage I love. It's part of my legacy. The more I meditate on that small, sturdy word “lack,” the more I realize that it is not a loss.

It is not always bad. Often, lack is simply the quiet space where grace has not yet arrived—and where peace already resides. It is the placeholder for greater things to fill that space. Selah.