Ready for the Wringer

One of the passages I’ve always found interesting in the Bible is 2 Timothy 4:6 “For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure.” This verse has been with me for a long time because it precedes the passage engraved on my dad’s headstone: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (verse 7).

As his days on earth were winding down, Paul chose to describe himself, his very life, as a drink offering. I’ve puzzled over that one. The Old Testament talks a lot about drink offerings, but like a lot of the Old Testament rituals, I’m a little fuzzy on the meaning.

A book I’m reading helped me focus on a different part of this verse—not so much on the “drink offering” part as the “poured out” part. The author was considering the all-American concept of “making one’s mark on the world.” Who doesn’t think about that from time to time? For some, it’s their highest goal. For a stay-at-home mom, it’s a yeah-right kind of goal. The only marks I see being made around here are those on my walls, thanks to a wanna-be ninja who forgot to take his shoes off.

Making a mark on the world is a man-made idea. God’s idea is for us to empty our mark into the world. To pour it out, like Paul did, so that nothing remains in the cup when the time for our departure comes.

When I picture my time at The Navigators, I see myself as a big, juicy sponge. I arrived flat and dry and spent 14 years soaking in all the love, goodness, spiritual maturity, and community I found there. The practical things I learned about God, the Bible, and the spiritual disciplines filled up my every pore. Though the leaving process did its best to drain the sponge, I am still nice and soggy from all I took with me.

We’re not supposed to live our lives in a state of permanent saturation. I’ve been sucking up all I can get, and God’s showing me that I’ve got to empty my sponge into those who are thirsty for its contents. Going through the wringer sounds a little scary, but I trust the One doing the wringing. I trust that He won’t wring me out and then cast me aside, but that He’ll continually fill me up again. My task is simply to empty my mark—my sponge—into the world, one dry and flattened person at a time.

I’ll admit it sounds a little daunting, especially when I’m already pretty pooped at the end of the day just from caring for my own family. But when this filling/emptying thing is done in His strength, not my own, I may find that I have more energy than ever before.