My cup overflows!

HELLO!! Four weeks ago, I said goodbye to Swaziland, and honestly, I’m still processing all that God did in that quiet, stretching, beautiful season. It was a time marked by growth, by spiritual abundance, by pouring out until I felt empty, and by having my eyes opened in ways I didn’t even know I needed.

Every morning I walked to the carepoint and stepped into a space filled with the sweetest children, little ones who simply needed gentleness, safety, and tenderness. Loving them felt natural, almost effortless at times. Their kindness, their simplicity, their joy made it easy to give of myself. But in that very same place, there was also the child who hit me every single day, not because he was cruel, but because that was the only kind of “affection” he knew at home. With the language barrier, redirecting him felt almost impossible. And it’s in those moments, the ones that stretched me thin, that I found myself seeking the Lord the most.

Because the truth is: we are the hardest to love.
We’re unfaithful, independent when we weren’t designed to be, self-sabotaging, prideful, and hurtful to others and to our perfectly loving Father. Yet He chooses us. Every single day, He chooses to love us despite our failures, despite our heart postures, despite the mess we bring to the table.

And in Swaziland, He reminded me that He invites us to love others the same way, not because it’s easy, but because He first loved us. It’s never our job to change someone’s heart. That is the Spirit’s work. Our job is simply to hold out our hands, receive whoever He places in them, and love them with His agape love.

And I didn’t live that out perfectly, not even close. Working with kids from 9 to 5, navigating language barriers and behaviors shaped by brokenness, stretched me in ways I didn’t expect. But even there, God was so faithful to encourage me through those same children. They were mirrors of His tenderness, His creativity, His joy. He revealed His heart through their eyes.

One of the biggest things He taught me was this: I cannot pour out what I haven’t allowed Him to pour in.
I can’t minister from an empty cup, and I definitely can’t minister from a cup filled only with my own strength. Anything I try to produce on my own will never satisfy, not me, and certainly not anyone I’m trying to love.

But when He fills my cup with His Spirit, in the quiet mornings and in whispered prayers throughout the day, something shifts. It becomes more than just having something to offer. It becomes an overflow. A fragrance. A pleasing aroma of His presence that others can sense even before a word is spoken.

That’s the goal, isn’t it?
To be so full of the Holy Spirit that people catch the scent of Jesus as we walk by. That when someone asks what it is they’re noticing, I don’t have to strain or tilt or force anything out. It simply overflows. My cup spills right onto them, and they immediately recognize the source.

I pray that you and I learn to live in that overflow, to seek God daily, to discover what He wants to reveal, and to let His Spirit pour out of us through our actions and our words.

Swaziland was slow, very, very slow. But the slowness was a gift. Silence and stillness made room for God’s voice, and He filled that space with gentle reminders and deep truths. Even on the days I felt low, He was faithful to lift my head and show me the small blessings that held great purpose and the bigger picture that I couldn’t yet see.

After Swazi, we traveled to Nelspruit, South Africa for debrief, a time to rest, reflect, process, and look back on what God did. It was so refreshing to gather with my team again, to worship together, and to remember that community is a gift. The community in Swaziland had been challenging, but stepping back into unity reminded me that God never leaves us to walk these seasons alone.

If anything, Swaziland changed me. Not loudly, not dramatically, but deeply, quietly, and in ways I’ll carry forever.

Also, here is the gift of Swazi worship, I hope you cherish it as much as I do. The congregation always sings in occopella, wherever you go. It is raw, and it is beautiful, I never had a dry eye anytime I listened to the Swazi people worship. I have never heard purer, or more beautiful worship. The whole congregation lifting up their voices to our king our father and our friend, without any physical instruments to drowned out the praise. What a picture of Heaven!!