The Empty Cup

A few months back, I stepped up to the task of my 3rd ministry talk to a charismatic group in New Manila. Still high from my previous talk two Fridays ago, I did my usual revitalized, intense preparation after office hours. From Ortigas, I went all the way to New Manila to meet the community for the first time, and from 9-940 pm, I gave an animated delivery of my talk on "Breaking Barriers: Being the Family God Wants You to Be."

After the talk, as I trodded to a long journey home, I found myself surprised at my disposition. Instead of the usual high I got from my 1st and 2nd talk, I felt tired, unsatisfied, and worse.

I felt empty.

Perturbed by this post-ministry experience, my mind began its usual habit of looking for quick answers. It was as if my subconscious was telling me:

"You're not supposed to feel empty. You're supposed to feel high."
"There must be something wrong with what you did back there"
"You weren't so successful."

Such not-so-helpful scripts prodded me to question my credibility as a starting minister. Questions such as, "Did I sufficiently prepare myself spiritually?" "Was it the contents of the envelope?" "Was I not the right speaker for the venue?" (It was about parent-child relationships and I am not even a father yet.) Suddenly, my human needs were infringing on the demands of the ministry.

When I got home I plopped on my bed almost lifeless (I had a 3 hour class prior to the talk) I was drawn to pray about the events of that day. Somehow, in my emptiness, I have allowed God to enter it and be loved in that state. I used to struggle with that emptiness; believing that as a human, a Christian, one must always be joyful in the service of the Lord.

Isn't that what they say in some schools and in some communities?

Yet, in my moments of solitude, and in this case, emptiness, God has made it a venue to meet in a very intimate manner.

The following morning, I realized that:

I don't have to be a spiritual superman to minister.
At the end of the day, it is not I but God who touches lives.
It is alright to make mistakes.
I am not perfect, but I am enough to be an envoy of God.
It is alright to feel empty. It can be a meeting place with God.

I remember an ancient Taoist saying that tells of the impossibilty of a full cup to be filled with new wine. I now welcome both being filled and being empty as necessary experiences that teaches life lessons through an encounter with the Father.

The Lord God fills my cup.