Ironically today, Christmas Day, I am pondering Easter eggs. This is not, as some might fear, the equivalent of the supermarkets’ desire to confuse seasons and move us on from one festivity to the next with no time for contemplation. It is because I am thinking about hollowness.

Hollowness in Easter eggs is a perfectly acceptable feature, a way of forming the chocolate into the shape we want, a shape that is representative of new life.

But hollowness in life, in how people feel, is far from pleasant and rarely acceptable, especially at festive times.

Hollowness, feeling empty or bereft, feeling that there is no more purpose or hope for us, often follows bereavement, but the feeling can come at any time, especially following loss or trauma (the breakdown of a marriage or relationship, the loss of a job, even that much-anticipated retirement) or even at any time in life when we stop long enough from our frantic busyness to contemplate the meaning of life and eternal things. Hollowness is a poignant reminder that life as it is currently, even with all its joys and celebrations such as Christmas, is not yet perfect.

But that chocolate Easter egg reminds us of a life to come when hollowness does not have the final word, and that hope carries us forward into a new year. Though we may feel the weight of sin and the heaviness of loss now, we have the assurance of Jesus that our hollowness can be filled. ‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.’ (Matt 5:4) He is able to fill our hollowness through His presence and the promises He brings.