Samuel was old. He'd led Israel for decades, and now he was handing things over to their first king. In his farewell speech, he gave them this straightforward warning: Don't turn away from God to chase empty things. They won't help you. They can't save you. They're nothing.
It's advice we still need today.
Let's call it what it is: empty things are idols. And no, we're not talking about golden statues in your living room. Modern idols look a lot more normal than that.
An idol is anything we look to for what only God can give us. It's whatever we turn to instead of God, thinking it'll make us happy or whole. It's what we worship with our time, our thoughts, our energy, our hearts.
Maybe your idol is career success. You think, "If I just get that promotion, then I'll feel fulfilled." You sacrifice everything for it. You check work emails at dinner. You define yourself by your job title. But you get that promotion, and three months later, you're still restless.
Maybe it's other people's approval. You exhaust yourself trying to please everyone, constantly checking how you measure up, scrolling to see who liked your post. Their opinion of you becomes more important than God's opinion of you. But approval is like junk food—it never quite satisfies, and you're hungry again in an hour.
Maybe it's comfort and security. You think if you can just control everything, get your finances perfect, your health perfect, your circumstances perfect, then you'll have peace. But life doesn't work that way, and control is an illusion. You're worshipping safety, and it's never enough.
Or maybe it's stuff. The new house, the nicer car, the latest phone. You buy it, love it for a week, then start eyeing the next thing. Possessions become your source of identity and happiness.
Here's the thing: none of these are necessarily bad. A good job, healthy relationships, financial stability, nice possessions—God isn't against these things. They become idols when we turn to them instead of God, when we expect them to do what only God can do, when we give them the place in our hearts that belongs to Him alone.
That's why Samuel calls them "nothing." Not because they don't exist, but because they can't profit or deliver. They can't fill the God-shaped hole in your heart. They can't save you. They can't give you lasting peace or purpose. An idol will always let you down because it was never meant to be God.
When we turn away from God to chase idols, we don't usually realize it's happening. There's rarely a dramatic moment where we shake our fist at heaven and declare, "I'm done with you, God!"
It's more like slowly drifting off course.
We get busy. Prayer becomes something we'll get to later. Reading the Bible feels like one more thing on the to-do list. Church feels optional. We're not mad at God—we're just distracted. Our idol is getting our attention instead.
And then we start to feel it. That spiritual dryness. That sense of being disconnected. We're going through the motions of life, but something's missing. We can't quite put our finger on it, but we know we're not where we used to be.
We get exhausted. Chasing idols is tiring. Idols are demanding masters. They always want more. More time, more effort, more sacrifice. We're constantly running after the next thing that might finally make us happy, and it never does. We're like someone dying of thirst who keeps drinking salt water.
We miss out. While we're busy bowing down to empty things, we miss what God actually wants to give us. Real peace. Real purpose. Real joy. The stuff that actually lasts.
We lose our bearings. Without God as our anchor, we start making decisions based on fear, or greed, or what everyone else is doing. Our idol becomes our master, and it's a cruel one. We don't know who we are anymore.
Here's the good news: God doesn't move. When we drift away to serve our idols, He stays right where He's always been. But getting back requires more than just feeling sorry—it requires true repentance.
First, we have to be honest. We need to recognize we've drifted and name our idols. Call them what they are. Maybe you're reading this and thinking, "Yeah, that's me. I've been worshipping success" or "I've made comfort my god." Don't sugarcoat it. Confess it. Awareness is the first step, but confession brings it into the light.
Second, we renounce and denounce these idols. This is crucial. We can't just feel bad about our idols and keep serving them. We have to actively turn away. Renounce means we reject them, we cut ties with them, we say "no more." Denounce means we call them out for what they are—wicked things that have stolen God's place in our hearts. We're not just admitting we have a problem; we're declaring war on it. "I renounce the idol of approval. I denounce the lie that people's opinions matter more than God's truth."
Third, we repent—we turn completely around. Repentance isn't just saying sorry. It's a complete change of direction. We stop walking toward the idol and start walking toward God. We stop serving the darkness and walk toward the light of the kingdom of God. True repentance means our feet move. Our choices change. Our priorities shift. It's not just a feeling—it's a decision followed by action.
Fourth, we walk with God in spirit and in truth. This is where we live now. We talk to God honestly, even when it's hard. We open His Word and let truth wash over the lies we've believed. We worship Him in spirit—from a genuine heart—and in truth—based on who He really is, not who we've made Him out to be. We surround ourselves with other believers who are walking in the light. We take practical steps every single day to stay in God's presence, to give Him the place our idols used to have.
Samuel's warning to Israel is also an invitation. Don't waste your life chasing idols that can't deliver what they promise. Don't turn aside from the One who can actually satisfy your soul.
The contrast is stark. On one side: empty things that profit nothing. Idols that demand everything and give nothing back. On the other side: a God who loves you, knows you, and offers you real life.
If you've turned aside, today is a good day to come back. Not tomorrow. Not after you get your act together. Today.
God's still there. And He's still enough.
If you're ready to turn away from the empty things and back to God, pray this with me:
Father, I confess that I've turned aside. I've been chasing empty things and making idols out of good gifts. I've given my heart to things that can't save me, can't satisfy me, can't deliver what they promised. I've been exhausted trying to serve masters that only demand more.
Today, I turn back to You. You are the only God, the only One worthy of my worship, the only One who can truly fill my heart. Forgive me for looking elsewhere for what only You can give.
I declare that You alone are God. You alone are worthy. You alone satisfy. I choose to worship You with my time, my heart, my life. Help me recognize when I start to drift again. Keep my eyes fixed on You.
Thank You that Your door is always open, that You've been waiting, that You welcome me back with open arms. I'm Yours. Amen.