Maybe the gaps are where much of the beauty is found?
See, these small details are where existence seems to fall into place without us noticing.
We hold our children while we watch a movie, but we never notice how the fan felt as it gently blew the afternoon air on us.
However, Ezekiel when referring to “gaps” here, seems to be talking about breaches in a defensive wall.
He admonishes the leaders of Israel for not defending these vulnerabilities.
Essentially, he is mad that they have fallen short of their responsibility.
And – frankly – I can think of few things less meaningful than fulfilling your purpose.
Ezekiel excoriates false prophets as those who have “not gone up into the gaps.” The gaps are the thing. The gaps are the spirit’s one home, the altitudes and latitudes so dazzlingly spare and clean that the spirit can discover itself for the first time like a once-blind man unbound. The gaps are the cliffs in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God; they are the fissures between mountains and cells the wind lances through, the icy narrowing fiords splitting the cliffs of mystery. Go up into the gaps. If you can find them; they shift and vanish too. Stalk the gaps. Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn, and unlock—more than a maple—a universe. This is how you spend this afternoon, and tomorrow morning, and tomorrow afternoon. Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.
-Annie Dillard, Pilgrim At Tinker Creek