I used to thirst to fill and fill and fill, and maybe that was all, really, I sought after in my faith experience. The filling. Like young love, obsessed with passion and infatuation, so terrified of waking up one day in the absence of feeling. I filled up on church services, Bible studies, times of singing songs of praise with eyes closed and hands raised, prayer groups, books on faith, ministry positions, drinking more and more, as much as I could handle.
I don't know that I ever learned much about emptying, at least until I came up completely dry, drinking faith to the dregs, until there was but one drop in the bottom of the well.
Where my faith all but ended, I found Jesus, and he looked different than I had always pictured. More rugged and wild and mysterious. So familiar and unnerving and comforting and strange. So quiet, so doggedly persistent. And there, in the dark at the bottom of the well I had dug for myself, he took over with the shovel and dug a little deeper into the ground. Until he struck water once more, and it flowed back in a trickle, fresh and crisp and unfiltered. And slowly, I filled.
These days and years, I'm still learning more about emptying, how it precedes the filling.
Emptying myself of pride, of self obsession and self righteousness, of being too much or too little but never just as I am.
Emptying of judgment and stereotypes, shame and condemnation.
Emptying of bitterness, envy and insecurity.
Emptying of anger and unforgiveness and distrust.
Emptying can'ts and should's and shouldn'ts.
Emptying of the soul-parching expectations of the world, of old definitions of success and worth and performance, of the quest for approval.
Emptying of religious language that is self-serving, enforcing fences instead of building bridges, padding comfort zones of sameness.
Emptying of old beliefs that minimize the beauty of our humanity in light of our lack of divinity.
Emptying of old ways of seeing that limit sight.
Emptying, yes, I'm always emptying, you see, for I can never be fully emptied of these things. But as I empty, I make space for Jesus to fill. As I empty, I see that as endless as this bottomless pit of myself may seem, the space he fills stretches deeper. He is the endless one and in him, and only him, is where I find my emptying and filling, my ending and my beginning.
Joining Five-minute Friday today, the first week of being hosted by Kate Motaung. The prompt today is "Fill."
OK, I really love this. I think we all forget that emptying has to be a predecessor to filling. I know that I do. I just keep trying so hard, that there seems nothing left, and what I am is not what I wanted to be. But emptying first, now that has possibility!
ReplyDeleteYou're right, we all know so many things we so quickly forget. And the gentle, persistent reminders... oh, how grateful I am for these.
DeleteI love to just wade into your words and let them swirl around me and fill me with their wonder and images. So much beauty here.
ReplyDeleteI love this picture: "drinking faith to the dregs, until there was but one drop in the bottom of the well.
Where my faith all but ended, I found Jesus, and he looked different than I had always pictured. More rugged and wild and mysterious. So familiar and unnerving and comforting and strange. So quiet, so doggedly persistent."
The dregs of faith - oh, how I understand that deeply and love the description.
And, oh, your descriptions of Jesus here; they stir my heart and my soul.
I'm so glad I stopped by this evening before I head to bed tonight. These are words that my thirsty soul drinks in deeply. Thank you, friend.
{visiting from fmf}
Judith, your words touched me deeply. How honored I am that these words here could stir your heart and soul and be a drink of needed water. Glory to Jesus, there isn't anything more satisfying in writing than that. Peace be with you, friend.
DeleteI am so thankful He meets me there, in the bottom of the well. Blessings!
ReplyDeleteMe, too, Barbie. Me, too. <3
DeleteSuch a fabulous post .. and you are this week's Featured Five Minute Friday! Yay! ;-) I'll add a link to this post in my sidebar for the next week .. Thank you for sharing these beautiful words!
ReplyDeleteWow, such an honor, Kate. Thank you so much :) I love participating in the FMF community!
DeleteWow Amber, I am so with you. I use to fill up on all the same things, but now I find myself being emptied as well. While the void fills scary, I can trust that Jesus really fill the voids for me. Seems like for me there is a waiting period between being emptied and filled so sometimes I just feel empty. This post is encouraging. May Jesus continue to fill you.
ReplyDeleteOh yes. Paula, how right you are - I know that waiting period between emptying and filling, how it just feels empty. I love how you speak of trust. That seems to be the most crucial issue, will we trust Jesus to fill? It's such a gift to see you here, friend.
DeleteI love, love, love this! Great writing. Wonderful truths!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Liv :-)
DeleteI resonate with these words, friend, and with what Paula spoke about above -- that waiting period between the emptying and filling seems as if it will sometimes crush me.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry that my summer life has been so full that I've read all these beautiful posts on my phone, but have not been able to get to my laptop to comment until now. I want to print these particular lines out and read them over and over. This is exactly where I am finding myself:
"Where my faith all but ended, I found Jesus, and he looked different than I had always pictured. More rugged and wild and mysterious. So familiar and unnerving and comforting and strange. So quiet, so doggedly persistent. And there, in the dark at the bottom of the well I had dug for myself, he took over with the shovel and dug a little deeper into the ground. Until he struck water once more, and it flowed back in a trickle, fresh and crisp and unfiltered. And slowly, I filled."
Wow. W.O.W.
You know, sweetheart, when I saw all those comments from you on Saturday, I was so humbled by the offering of your time to sit down and share your words like that. It's never expected. But it's always an honor and a life-affirming experience to receive the gifts of your words, Ashley. And they are gifts.
DeleteMay we fill. And fill. And empty. And fill. And always be slightly caught off guard by what Jesus looks like when he shows himself to us.