The past six weeks of my life have been nothing short of a whirlwind. I’ve spent the last few days in Arkansas with the {absolutely wonderful} (in)courage and DaySpring teams. Pictures to come, I promise!

Before that short trip, I was in Orlando for five weeks serving as an intern with Student Leadership University (while continuing to work for (in)courage). To be able to serve middle and high school students day in and day out was a big honor, and I was (and still am) so thankful for the opportunity. It was a dream come true!

It was also exhausting, though. I worked 5am-midnight almost every single day, then went back and did stuff for (in)courage. I wouldn’t trade it, no ma’am, but I’m also not going to say it was easy.

In all honest, it was extremely hard.

I never really sat down and wrote about it all here, the details and trials and times when I just wanted to cry. But today, I’m posting over at Vanessa’s.

About the good times, the hard struggles during SLU, and one of the biggest lessons I learned.

If I don’t allow Him to pour into me, I’ll have nothing to pour out to others.


“I have nothing left to give.”

It’s the constant refrain circling my head, threatening to spill out my lips.

On the days that go well, I’m thankful to fall into bed and get a few hours of sleep – thankful for the quiet that comes with the night.

Some days I look forward to when I’ll finally be able to crash, knowing that if I can just.keep.going. time will tick-tock on and three hours of sleep will be there waiting for me.

And then there are moments like this afternoon that would just scare a stranger.


Today you would have found me crying in my car, pulled into a half-full parking lot. And I don’t mean the pretty kind of crying. I mean chest heaving, the tears won’t stop, and Lord, please don’t let anyone walk by right now because I’m looking a little freaky.

The words began as a whisper, turned into a whimper, and then a prayer:

I am empty. Lord, I am so empty. I have nothing left to give, nothing to pour out for others. Dear God, I’m just empty and tired and weary and please, please can you pour You into all this?

I’m exhausted.


I’ve never worked so hard on so little sleep, only to wake up the next day and do it all again – and I want to do it all again each day.

But more than anything right now, I just want a big hug from someone who knows me well – and then I want everyone in the world to be quiet for 48 hours so I can just think.

image by Vanessa

5am dawns bright and early, and by midnight I often realize I’ve gone another day without opening my Bible.

Yes, I’m in constant conversation with Him throughout the day. Every hour I find I need Him all the more.

But that can’t be all. It isn’t enough. I’m doing good things, making great memories, meeting awesome people, and pouring out all the way, all the time.

And it’s good. It’s all good.

But it’s not good for me, and therefore it’s not best for others.

If there’s none of Him for me to pour out, then I giving out of myself, and that will never be as good as when I can give Him.

Keep reading over here to hear what became the cry of my heart, the lesson learned out of the hard.