My Cup Only Has Drips In It; It is He that I Seek

        Standing alone in my apartment tonight I found myself starring off into space at my bookshelf.  It's filled to maximum capacity with Christian non-fiction books (mostly from undergrad), picture frames of a few beloved friends, and my old journals.  I had nothing on the schedule.  Nowhere to be.  No thoughts to be had.  Empty room and space for me to zone out or create.  I found myself reaching for an old journal of mine.  I've always had this habit of starting a journal and then stop writing in it a quarter of the way because I didn't care for the course my life was on and thought if I started a new journal some new story would begin.
         This journal that I held in my hands has a cover that says, "Lord, make me an instrument of your peace".  This is a prayer of St. Francis.   I quickly realized that the majority of the journal was actually wrote in!  Over the course of a couple of years I wrote a lot.  I stuck with it and this journal.  This occurred between Sophomore year at Hope College through the first half of Senior year.  What a special gift to have this time period wrote down! Journal entry after journal entry was prayers to God and thoughts of a spiritual nature.  My humanness and sin wrote down with the dichotomy of Hope, forgiveness, and restoration.  In reading some entries, I've come to a conclusion that I have apparently many times before; one must give out of the overflow of their cup.  If their cup is empty at all, one cannot give to others like they could or as God may wish for us.  In my reading I also had something re-affirmed.  God uses those in some of the most special of ways when we think we are of no use at all.  Comparatively speaking to my faith filled college days, I am currently so far astray and dry.  Comparatively speaking, in college when I was at my most distant from God, I was so close to Him.
          I read my words, I see my handwriting, and I hear my prayers over again.  It would appear as if some Christ-filled, passionate, woman possessed my body at that time.   There have been multiple times over the years of distance that I've reflected on the closeness I felt in college when supported by fellow Christian brothers and sisters, chapel 3 times a week, and then The Gathering on Sundays.  Insert Bible studies into that and loads of spiritually packed conversations and times of prayer.  Most people don't believe me when they tell me how they partied their way through college and I say, I prayed my way through college.  Truth be spoken, I had a much different focus.  I reflect on those pivotal years engorged with spiritual passion and a much more finely tuned ear towards the Lord.  Upon reflecting over those years, I've often found myself feeling very disconnected from the woman I was then.  I find myself missing her, missing the prayers, missing the ear towards the Lord.
         Truth is, ironically that woman lives in me.  I've always looked back longingly and somewhat lost in this world.  Hope College made faith easy compared to being out in the real world (especially as someone who deviates from the sexual norm).  Truth is, I've been scared and relying on myself for far too long.  Truth is, all of that was runs low key through my blood every day and is still my foundation. Time to fill my cup! Sometimes we get so far into OUR lives, dreams, hopes, visions, that we forget that it's not OURS to begin with.  Sometimes we get so lost in the worlds we create for ourselves and our understanding of them that God has no choice but kick our asses back to step 1, recreate, and restore.

         Thanks be to God for never letting us go.  The Anchor of HOPE founded in God. 

"Nevertheless I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me with honor.  Whom have I in Heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire other than you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever".  - Psalm 73: 23-26