Snow dusts the field, the driveway, the roof.
A robin shivers in the pregnant branches. Feathers ruffle in the bitter wind.
The feeders are empty, so I don my jacket and boots, scoop black oil to refill.
I purposely spill some for the ground-feeders and for the love of sunflowers.
I come in and empty the dishwasher, empty the trash, empty the dryer, empty the washer.
Empty the checkbook.
How many times can I empty?
Seventy times seven?
And more.
I empty and they fill to be emptied, to be filled again.
I think of how he emptied Himself to fill, how I need to empty myself to be filled.
I empty a glass of stale water and fill with fresh, add ice.
And I wonder about Nduta.
Does she have fresh water to drink?
Is her tummy full today?
I take an empty piece of stationery and begin to fill it with words.
To tell her how my heart fills with love when I think of her.
To remind her how Jesus fills her heart with love–and how she needs to spill that love, empty herself, to be filled again.
Note: Nduta is our Compassion daughter. She lives in Kenya.
Joining Lisa Jo in community on the five-minute prompt of empty.
We empty our innocence upon the world when we blossom. We empty our heart when we give our love away. We empty our womb, our tears, fears, anger, ugliness….empty until we take more of Him into ourselves and He slows the process of ugly emptying and begins to change us so we can empty Him out of us…His love, beauty…all the spiritual fruits…lifelong process