The current water shortage has lent a new meaning to “scraping the bottom of the barrel”. In spite of careful rationing, I’m getting close to the end of my water supply and there’s no telling when the water will come back on again. It could come on for a couple hours in the night. It could come on tomorrow. Or Sunday. Or next Thursday.
I don’t know about you, but I’m not used to having to think about where I’m going to get water if I run out. Actually, I’m just not used running out of water. Ever.
* * *
I left home 38 days ago, and it seems like both yesterday and an eternity ago. I was prepared for the heat. For the dirt and swarms of flies and being jostled around mercilessly on bumpy roads. For begging children and overflowing sewers and exhaustion. For standing out no matter where I go.
But there is an emptiness, a not-enough-ness, a nothing-ness that I was not prepared for. I know so little. I can do so little. Things I was competent in back home are suddenly irrelevant. Being in an environment so completely different strips away much of what I have seen as my identity. My first instinct is to run away and hide in a corner where I can be left alone.
It didn’t happen all at once, but since I’ve been here, I feel like I’ve been drained. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Yes, I feel like I’ve been drained right down to empty, and here I’ve discovered something.
Something I’ve known in my head but hadn’t experienced lately:
Being empty can be the very best thing to happen to you.
When I feel the crushing weight of my not-enough-ness, I experience God’s complete sufficiency. When I feel like nothing, I remember God has promised to be everything I need. When I’m empty, I learn that His purpose is “that [I] may be filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19b). Filled with all the fullness of God. That’s pretty incredible, isn’t it? Remember how Paul compares us to jars of clay? Unspectacular. Fragile. Empty. Yet that very unspectacular-ness and emptiness is what makes them perfect to hold the treasure – the fullness of God Himself. “…That the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7b)
I am emptied to be filled. No, it doesn’t feel good. No, I didn’t ask for it. Yes, if there was another way to grow, I’d pick that. But I know this is the place God wants me to be at: down to nothing.
And at the end of the day, not one of the things I’ve faced (or will face) can overpower me.
Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Anna and I were inspired by reading this. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteI was getting ready to respond to your request for prayer when I clicked on the post and this whole new post showed up...her thoughts. WOW! What a brave young lady. I like what her words say. I now pray they will take on real meaning to her as she finds God being enough. Thanks Betty for your heart for others.
ReplyDeleteThanks Andre and Anna for commenting on my post. Reading her words encouraged me to pray more for those who make such a huge step of faith. Pray all is well with you two.
ReplyDeleteBill, Ace and I were encouraged as we met with Rachel to hear her tell about how much her church is behind her. A good home church is worth a lot. Praying for your message this Sunday.
ReplyDelete"I am emptied to be filled." That is a profound and wise statement... The simplest of words always seem to be the most profound. That's how we know they are from our Father. I'm praying for Rachel. Excellent post. Thanks for hosting, Betty.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by Floyd. It's my privilege to know Rachel and pray for her.
ReplyDeleteWow, Betty. I am taking notes; may my attitude improve when I feel that I'm reduced to nothing. He is our everything. Praying for Rachel!
ReplyDeleteMary, I remember so well the moment the adventure wore off when we went to Bolivia. It only sustains one so long. Rachel is beginning the process of learning to really walk by faith. Thanks for the prayer.
ReplyDeleteThere is a darkness that hovers over those who enter other lands as missionaries, perhaps because everything is so different there. In the solitude, may she find the flow of water into her spirit to quinch the thirsty soul.
ReplyDeleteHazel, using Robert's account
Hazel you are so right...I have sensed that darkness here in the US since we came home. We wandered so far from being a Christian nation and I think things will get darker before the Lord comes to get us. Thanks for the comment.
ReplyDelete