Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

The Power of Empty

Have you ever heard the statement, “You can’t pour from an empty cup”? I beg to differ. Yes, you can. In fact, you not only can; but you should.

First, let’s examine the statement. Where did it come from? What does it mean? There is a movement these days, particularly among women, that has been cloaked in something that appears to be truth. It sounds good and seems to make sense, so it must be right. Right? The idea is that, when you give so much of yourself to others, you pour yourself out until there is simply nothing left to give. Therefore to give more, you must first refill yourself. You give back to yourself with self-care and me time doing something for yourself so you can continue to give of yourself. 

This message sounds so good, especially to the over-worked, sleep-deprived, worn-out, stressed-out, neglected woman who has been so busy with life she’s forgotten who she is. She daily looks in the mirror and cringes. All that’s left of who she used to be a decade or more ago is a distant memory. Her body has changed over the years and will likely never be the same. She is mentally exhausted and stressed over endless things. She feels isolated, forgotten, and unimportant. Her spirit is parched. Even in a crowd, she feels very much alone. She tries, but her heart is empty. And then, she hears, “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” It soothes her mind. It gives her a sense of honor in all that she does, even without appreciation from anyone else. And it whispers an idea in her ear that she needs to stop caring about all the responsibilities around her and focus on herself for once. She deserves, and desperately needs a break. Besides, she can’t keep giving if there’s nothing left to give. What about her neglected needs?

The enemy has twisted the idea of self-care. In and of itself, self-care is not wrong; in fact, it’s needed. We have been instructed through Scripture to care for the temple of God, which is our bodies. It is important to eat right, exercise, and get plenty of sleep each night. It is good to laugh, savor life, and enjoy wholesome hobbies and interests. Some need alone time, and others need the comfort of their friends. Each individual has different needs and desires. But we’re on dangerous ground when we start to feel sorry for ourselves and to withdraw because of life’s injuries or when we focus on our social isolation and material deficiencies. There’s nothing wrong with reprioritizing and making time for yourself, but we must be aware of this world’s foolish wisdom. Before questioning life’s unfairness and people’s ungratefulness, question your emptiness.

We were created empty. Adam’s lungs were void and uninflated, until the breath of God Himself filled them. Then, they began to work. The empty chambers of his heart were filled with blood that was transported by a network of arteries and veins that nourished his body with the oxygenated life source. Only when he was filled with the life-giving breath of God did he become a living soul. Even though our bodies seem to function on their own, it is the breath of God that keeps us going. We were made empty to be filled by Him. It was a physical manifestation of something very spiritual. Perhaps, our emptiness has less to do with all we’ve given of ourselves and more to do with our need for more of Him.

There is something powerful about emptiness. Only when a vessel is truly empty can it be filled. It must first be poured out. Jesus said, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled” (Mat. 5:6). I pray that God empties me of myself to fill me with Him. This prayer must be daily because my human nature continually wants me full of myself. I must pour myself out in a daily sacrifice of consecration and commitment. I don’t need more of me; I need more of Him!

Like an Old Testament drink offering, we must pour out ourselves as a sacrifice to God. We offer ourselves to God empty of selfish desires and lusts and arrogance so that we may be filled with His righteousness. Only then can we truly be fulfilled.

Pouring out our selfish wants and neglected needs requires pouring out our frustrations, temptations, insecurities, disappointments, regrets, and sorrows. Hannah was barren and was “in bitterness of soul” and “wept sore” over her childlessness (1 Sam. 1:10). She vowed to God that, if He would bless her with a son, she would return him to God “all the days of his life” (1 Sam. 1:11). As she was praying this prayer at the temple, the priest Eli saw her and thought she was drunk because she was praying so intently in her heart, only moving her mouth silently (1 Sam. 1:12-13). When he scolded her, she said, “I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before the Lord” (1 Sam. 1:14-15). She had carried the weight of her disappointment and sorrow for many years, but had finally decided to pour them out to God. In return, God granted her request and gave her the son she so desired. She then kept her promise; and when he was weaned, she brought the child Samuel to the priest to serve in the temple. The fruit of her emptiness would later become the prophet who anointed David King of Israel.

Your empty feelings may, in fact, be quite the opposite of what you originally thought. Instead, you may be full—full of hurt, anger, bitterness, disappointment, or sorrow. Is there so much on your mind when you lay your head on your pillow at night that is spills onto your cheeks? Do you live in silent pain telling no one? Pour it out. Let go of your wants. Release your neglected needs. Surrender the sorrow. Empty yourself of you so that you can be filled with the Breath of Life and experience the joy of true fulfillment.

Posted on by Jennifer Tritsch

Perspective

Thank God for 2020.

There, I said it.  Don’t shoot.

It was the year that started with such promise and potential.  We were all in our perfect little bubbles of routines, surrounded in our orbs of self, and wrapped in our blankets of security; and then sometime after Valentine’s Day, reality came along and popped our bubble.  And no, I’m not trying to make light of a global pandemic that killed millions of people, devastating wildfires, swarms of locusts and murder hornets, riots, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes, or tornadoes.  I realize this past year has been seemingly nothing short of the eleventh plague.

But I thank God for this year.

Yes, I am painfully aware that practically every major (and minor) event was cancelled this past year — weddings, birthdays, funerals, vacations, holiday parties, and church services with all of the events surrounding them — all cancelled. Every one of us have at least one or more story of something important that we missed.  I saw the graduating class of 2020 get cheated out of their ceremonies, proms, and parties.  I watched the Homegoing service of my own Pastor’s wife online.  There were two weddings I didn’t get to attend.  For the first time in my life, I missed Easter Sunday services as I huddled in my underground storm shelter with my family waiting out the tornadic activity all around us.  And not only was 2020 simply inconvenient. Millions became unemployed nearly overnight. Businesses — both small and large — went under. Industries were wiped out, and some will never recover.  Much of our nation — even our world — was brought to its knees.

And I thank God for this year.

Personally speaking, not much changed for me on a day to day basis during our isolation time.  I am already a stay-at-home mother of four, three of which I homeschool and one of which I chase around the house during his entire waking hours trying my best to prevent a catastrophe.  My daily life is centered around keeping everyone clothed, fed, educated, and somewhat happy.  About the only thing that changed for me during all the mandated quarantine was not being able to get everything I was used to getting at the stores for my family and having to make do.  (But hey, I learned how to make bread!)  But my heart went out to all of the families suddenly thrust into the life of homeschool without preamble and with no resources, not to mention the children who relied heavily on their schools for regular meals.

I ached and prayed for my many friends and family who were suddenly without jobs.  We went through an initial financial scare ourselves, but God came through in a major way at just the right time.  Many of our loved ones fell sick, but they recovered. Thank you, Jesus!  We prayed and fasted more together as a family than we ever have.  We spent more quality family time together this year than we ever have.  But perhaps, the greatest blessing of all this year for me was when the Lord raised my mother from her deathbed.  It wasn’t even COVID-19 that got her there. It was a failing liver.  I got to spend over a month with her while she lived with us as I tried to nurse her back to health.  Not only did God completely heal her physically; but He also repaired her broken heart as she was married to a wonderful, God-fearing man this past December.

I’ve watched my girls grow even closer to each other than they already were.  While the rest of the world was on pause, my family strengthened.  Yes, we were inconvenienced.  There was frustration, and even some tears were shed.  Not every day was picture perfect.  In fact, most of them were monotonous and boring at best and downright depressing at worst.  But as I look back over this incredibly challenging year, I see the hand of God.  He stepped in and took over our lives.  He was and still is moving us like chess pieces on a board, all for our good, even when we don’t understand it.

I thank Him for it.

Through the years I have tried to challenge myself to find the good in every situation.  I’m not always successful at it, but I do try to make it a personal habit.  I was dedicated to the Lord as a newborn infant, as was my husband and all four of my children.  So, of course, I want nothing but His will for our lives.  That means letting God be God even during the trials.  That means trusting Him in every situation and leaning not to my own understanding.  That means living a consecrated life of devotion to Him even when I don’t like living that life.

As my mother lay in critical condition in an ICU bed and I was unable to be there with her, I had to pray a prayer of release.  It was a very difficult prayer to pray, especially after losing my father two years ago.  As an only child, I was so scared of being left alone without her.  But I had to let God be God.  And if it was His will to take her, then I had to trust it was the right time.  It was by far one of the most difficult prayers I have ever prayed up until that point in my life, but I did it.  I asked Him to heal her if it was His will, but if it wasn’t His will, to take her with as little pain as possible, much the same way He took Daddy.  Then, little by little, day by day, I watched her slowly regain her strength one terrifying, wobbly step at a time.  I watched her lab value levels slowly decline from lethal to dangerous to borderline to normal.  I watched her skin color slowly change from dark orange to pale orange to yellow to pink.  Her speech went from garbled to slurred to weak to clear and coherent.  I listened to her doctor tell me that she could die at any minute. Then he said that maybe she could get a little better. Later, her recovery was a good possibility. And finally, he said that she was miraculously healed.  And then, the most amazing thing of all happened! Her tears turned to laughter, her profound sadness to utter joy, and her panic to peace as I watched her say her wedding vows to one of the kindest, gentlest men I have ever met.

My God did that.

I know you’ve heard it said many times that hindsight is 20/20; and you’ve probably heard it said by now that, as soon as the clock struck midnight on the first day of January, 2020 was finally hindsight.  But as cliché as it may sound, I want to truly have 2020 vision.  I want to look back over this year and see the order even through all the chaos.  None of this year took God by surprise.  It was all part of His divine plan from pandemics to politics and my house to the White House.  God allowed it to happen.  Dare I say it?  He made it happen.  (Daniel 2:20-22)

I cannot and will not curse this year.  I refuse to join so many others who are talking about throwing it out like yesterday’s trash.  God was too good to me.  I can’t and won’t complain.  This year was a gift, and I will gratefully receive it.  I choose to see it with my 2020 vision.  It is with a thankful heart that I look back, and with great anticipation that I look forward to the balance of 2021.  I have no idea what it holds; but I’m ready for it, whatever it may be.  It’s all about perspective, and I’ve tried my best to adjust mine.  This year has made me step back to take notice of all I have, rather than what I lack.

God help us all to see with 2020 vision.

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that thou art –
Thou my best thought, by day or by night;
Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

attr. St. Dallan Forgaill, trans. Eleanor Hull
Posted on by Delbert Tritsch

The Solace of Weeping

On Thursday morning, December 14, 2017, I sat in a medical clinic waiting room suffering and greatly desiring relief.  My wonderful wife, Jennifer, had driven me to the clinic and was doing all of my paperwork for me.  Even though she gave up her career as a registered nurse to homeschool and raise our three girls, she still has a nurse’s heart, especially when it comes to her family.

My symptoms had appeared over two days earlier, but the worst of them had been during the preceding 24 hours.  My fever had gone as high as 102°F.  Due to the fever, my back hurt severely enough to remind me of the pain I’ve felt there preceding a kidney stone attack; though, I could tell it wasn’t the same.  I had tremendous coughing fits and experienced a terrible itch that felt like it was in my lungs but would not go away.  During this sickness (which the doctor treated as the flu), I felt my worst on this Thursday morning.

As I sat there in the waiting room assuming that I had bronchitis or pneumonia (and I’ve had both before, but not this time), I imagined the doctor telling me I had some terminal condition and that my symptoms would only worsen until I finally succumbed to my disease ultimately suffocating or drowning from pneumonia.  But I knew this romantic fate wasn’t my present reality.  My imagination was unhindered by my illness; rather, it may have been fueled by my self-pity.

Slightly wallowing in my suffering, I was suddenly reminded of people I know and have known who have truly experienced the suffering about which I was selfishly fantasizing.  I thought of Bro. Mask, a member of my church family at Cedar Grove United Pentecostal Church; he has visited death’s door numerous times and struggles for every breath he takes.  I thought of my maternal grandmother (Granny to me); I watched her pass from this life struggling for her last breath as she surrendered to pneumonia among other respiratory conditions.  I also thought of another precious church member, Sis. Miller, who endures chronic pain.  And there are many others (too many to name them all), some of which I know and love, who suffer far more than I ever have suffered.  In that moment, I was flooded with emotion; and my tears began to flow as I thought of and prayed for those who suffer more than I.  Their illnesses can’t be cured with a simple shot and a round of prescription medications, but I knew I was going to feel better before long.

As I cried and prayed for those who are hurting more than I was, something amazing happened.  I felt better.  That insatiable itch in my lungs abated.  I experienced actual, literal, physical relief while I cried and prayed for them.  I’m not one that can turn on the waterworks at will, and I couldn’t keep them going for very long.  And when they stopped, my uncomfortable symptoms returned.  But while I wept for someone else, my pain faded.

We are bombarded these days with messages promoting selfishness, self-absorption, self-actualization, self-expression, etc.  Social media lies to us by offering meaningful connection while actually cheapening our connections and isolating us from real relationships in order to turn us into something akin to lab rats that click their ads, buy their products, and play their games intentionally and intelligently designed to be addictive.  We are taught to look inward, love me, do what’s best for me, and do what feels good.  These philosophies are not of God.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8-9

Human philosophy says that you must first have something before you can give it, but divine understanding reveals that you must give something before you can receive it.  Earthly wisdom teaches that winners must get ahead of everyone else in the race regardless of the collateral damage, but heavenly wisdom teaches that the first will be last and the last first (Matt. 19:30; 20:16; Mark 9:35; 10:31; Luke 13:30).

Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

Luke 6:38

True fulfillment can only be found in fighting for the fortune of another.  Pain may be relieved only by one’s binding the wounds of someone else.  Complete healing can only come to those who give it.  The fullness of salvation cannot be savored until one has gone into the fields weeping and “bearing precious seed” (Ps. 126:6).  This is the Solace of Weeping.