Skip to main content

The Prayer of the Empty Water Jar

Jesus, I come into the warmth of your presence
knowing that you are
the very emptiness of God.

I come before you
holding the water jar of my life.

Your eyes meet mine
and I know what I'd rather not know.

I came to be filled
but I am already full.

I am too full
This is my sickness

I am full of things
that crowd out
your healing presence.

A holy knowing steals inside my heart
and I see a painful truth.

I don't need more
I need less
I am too full.

I am full of things that block out
your golden grace.

I am smothered by gods of my own creation
I am lost in the forest of my false self
I am full of my own opinions and narrow attitudes
full of fear, resentments, control
full of self-pity, and arrogance.

Slowly this terrible truth
pierces my heart
I am so full there is no room for you.

Contemplatively, and with compassion
you ask me to reach into my water jar.

One by one, Jesus, you enable me
to lift out the things
that are a hindrance to my wholeness.

I take each one to my heart and
I hear you asking me,
"Why is this so important to you?"

Like the murmur of a gentle stream
I hear you calling,
Let go, let go, let go!

I pray with each obstacle
tasting the bitterness and grief
it has caused me.

Finally...
I sit with my empty jar
I hear you whisper,
You have become a space for God
Now there is hope
Now you are ready to be a channel of life.

You have given up your own agenda
There is nothing left by God.

-Seasons of Your Heart, Macrina Wiederkehr


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

naked gers.

though they are dainty, they are still yellow and a welcomed sight after such a long winter.
summer school is essentially code for: let's play outside.
blue skies are in abundance and make me feel anything but blue.
naked gers are almost as much fun as clothed ones.

"...a vital piece of luggage..."

3 months. 90 days. just yesterday. forever.

It has been 3 months since I left mongolia. Some days it feels like I was there just yesterday while others it feels like these have been the longest 3 months of my life.

I neglect writing about this painful time because I still can't seem to find the right words that could describe the emotions and thoughts that I have.

No words suffice.

No amount of tears calm.

No hugs or "it's gonna get better"s really change much.

I ache. I long to be in that place again.

Yesterday, Erin and I were talking about what we say and think when people ask 1. "If we miss Mongolia?" and 2. "What do we miss the most?"

If you know us at all, you know that the first question will hardly make us pause, it will cause us to chuckle and say, "Yes, I miss Mongolia desperately." And that is the truth. Which always leads to the second question. Which is harder to answer.

I usually give the answer "The people are what I miss the …

am I a та?

"All grown ups are pirates." -Hook

Each afternoon into the evening, I hear children playing in the courtyard of our apartment complex. There is even a nice hopscotch game set up right beneath my window. At nearly every hour of the day you can hear a basketball being bounced on the finally unfrozen half-court.

Those kids stay out there for hours on end. Skipping their normal meals of meat, potatoes and carrots for their third or fourth popsicle of the day.

I've found here that spring really just means ice cream. Those words are basically synonymous. When it started being above 0 outside, kids started eating ice cream like it was going out of style.

Everyone opens their windows as if to air out their hibernation quarters. Now that it has gotten closer to what I call warm, I've even gotten into the popsicles and open windows.

Since the winter solstice we've been gaining 3-5 minutes of sunshine everyday. I've heard it said that in the height of the summer the sun wi…