Sometimes I am full; sometimes I am empty.
One is not necessarily better than another. Full can be overwhelmed and uncomfortably stuffed, and it can be satisfied or full of potential or opportunity. Empty can be dry and gone, and empty can be clear and finished. But right now, it all feels like I’m full and empty in both the negative ways. And it feels endless, and like I can’t do anything about it.
I’m trying to think of how you poured yourself out. I’m trying to think of a cup mysteriously filled with blood and forgiveness. I’m trying to think of the cup that runneth over. I’m trying to think of the Spirit poured out at your baptism and mine, the Spirit poured out so many days and in so many ways for me to be shaped and made more like you in its power.
But I feel powerless. Empty. And yet I feel so full of so many thoughts and frustrations and fears and shame that I’m not sure there’s room for a drop of the Spirit to squeeze in and sanctify me.
O God, help me.
“Let me be full, let me be empty,” but let it be for your sake, not whatever this is that is trying to overshadow me.