Kaley, Me, Sam, and Jacqui hiking out of Foster Falls, where we were climbing to celebrate Kaley's 18th birthday.I can only begin to describe how very blessed I have been these last few weeks. Most significantly by the three women in that picture. I never would have guessed it, and I never could have imagined the amount of grace I would see in their lives. And the amount of grace that they would bring to mine. I am humbled by the amazing love I have been blessed with from the most unexpected of places.
The phrase "cup overflowing," has been present in our conversations recently. I love that it is, because it reminds me of an analogy I heard a couple of years ago:
God gave me the most beautiful of cups. Ceramic, handcrafted, one of a kind. It is perfectly shaped to fit me, perfectly sculpted to hold whatever I choose to fill it with. God smiles from ear to ear with anticipation, hoping that I will choose to use my beautiful gift to hold love. To hold onto Him.
But that's not what I do at all. I take one look at that cup and throw it to the ground. I can almost see the agony in God's eyes as my cup shatters into a hundred pieces on the floor. I turn away and don't look back.
But it isn't long before I come back to gather up the pieces of my cup. I've noticed that something is missing. Something is wrong with my innermost being. I put all the pieces back together, patch it so that it looks unbroken. But as soon as I try and fill it with water, it leaks. No matter what I try to do, my cup is still hopelessly broken. I have reached the end of myself and do the only thing left to do: fall to my knees and hold my brokenness before me.
And with nothing more than the sweetest smile I've ever seen, God takes my broken cup from me. He doesn't patch it. He doesn't give me a new one. He holds the pieces in his hands, and water overflows.
The phrase "cup overflowing," has been present in our conversations recently. I love that it is, because it reminds me of an analogy I heard a couple of years ago:
God gave me the most beautiful of cups. Ceramic, handcrafted, one of a kind. It is perfectly shaped to fit me, perfectly sculpted to hold whatever I choose to fill it with. God smiles from ear to ear with anticipation, hoping that I will choose to use my beautiful gift to hold love. To hold onto Him.
But that's not what I do at all. I take one look at that cup and throw it to the ground. I can almost see the agony in God's eyes as my cup shatters into a hundred pieces on the floor. I turn away and don't look back.
But it isn't long before I come back to gather up the pieces of my cup. I've noticed that something is missing. Something is wrong with my innermost being. I put all the pieces back together, patch it so that it looks unbroken. But as soon as I try and fill it with water, it leaks. No matter what I try to do, my cup is still hopelessly broken. I have reached the end of myself and do the only thing left to do: fall to my knees and hold my brokenness before me.
And with nothing more than the sweetest smile I've ever seen, God takes my broken cup from me. He doesn't patch it. He doesn't give me a new one. He holds the pieces in his hands, and water overflows.
now my eyes are currently filled with tears in chemisty. I love your heart. i really can't describe the joy i'm feeling right now knowing that the Lord has placed such precious girls in your life to love on you at school. know I pray for you often. Lets have a phone date soon, sweet friend! LOVE YOU!!!
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