Sunday, October 14, 2007

Dear God,

I was full. Full of living water. I didn't know how full until I began to preach.

The choirs had blended their voices together. The soloist had offered his grand gifts. The pianist had played the finest. Our music director had offered his best and I drank while listening.

By the time I began to preach I was spilling over.

I felt the effects of drinking spirit water yesterday. I had prepared myself, thinking I would be dry and thirsty today. And when the musical well provided even more water, I was nearly ready to burst and so it came forth in my morning message.

I believe in trusting you. I believe in taking responsibility to nourish the dry places in my soul. I believe in not blaming others for my thirst. I believe in the power of God. I believe in spiritual strength that comes from on high.

And what an even greater joy to have three people in the newcomer class who shared their lives at lunch from a deep well. Faith, they talked about faith from a deep place. "Spiritual awareness" they talked about. They want a church who is spiritually aware. All three have been at several churches and found ours to be the first who they believe really are spiritually aware. I realized my own gift of digging wells and teaching others how to do it. And now veteran spiritual well diggers are joining our fellowship. What great joy filled me.

You, O, Lord, it is you who continues to visit our church. You come bringing buckets of well water. And when we fail to fill our own buckets, turning dry and cranky, you enter quietly and for all those who bring their empty buckets to church, you fill them and we go home full. Some, however, are not aware that they even have a bucket. And sometimes those of us who do come bringing them turn them upside down because we don't want you filling them. We want to stay in a state of dryness. But when individually we upright our own bucket, knowing full well, we can't be full human beings living in faith without living water, you look right into our eyes, and the dark scales fall as our buckets become more and more full of you.

Great Wondrous God,
fill us to overflowing.
Forgive us
when we talk
about our brothers and sisters
who are dry, thirsty,
cranky and down right mean.
They're just dry.
Thank you
for sweet water
that quenches
our thirst.
Thank you
for our buckets,
well worn,
yet always ready
to be a source
of life to us.
Help us
to always be willing
to be filled.
But also
help us
to carry
our full buckets
to others.
It's just nice
that way.
One person
filling another's bucket.
The way
it's supposed
to be.
I love you.

Always, Andrea