Morning gleams bright. Another late milking. Devotions began and ended with one verse. 

“to know this love that surpasses knowledge-

that you may be filled to the measure

 of all the fullness of God.”

Ephesians 3:19

For two hours the words swirl as I lift milkers, squat, pull, wash, scrape, move.

What is the measure of the fullness of God?

 I come up with no answers. So I go back to love. Love that surpasses knowledge. I John 4:8, God is love. Him. Christ. The One who created. The One who judged. The One who redeemed.

This I understand on a base level. There is deepness in it that I can’t even begin to touch. But the love of a Father, I understand beyond physical knowledge. Abba. Beloved. My God.

Later I stop to look up words. My green Strong’s flipped open. Fingers trailing pages.

fullness –> pleroma –> that which is put in to fill up

measure –> metron –> a portion

A thought stops me. I turn pages back.

“to know” –> ginosko –> allow, be aware of, feel, have, know, perceive, can speak, be sure, understand

The measure of the fullness of God is connected, intimately, with the knowing (allowing! being aware of. feeling. having. perceiving. speaking! being sure. understanding.) of His love. 

My portion- the piece that fills me up- is rooted in Love.

Milking will be late again tonight. Sun leaving trails of red on the barn floor. The chores may seem long. Calves fighting at feeding time. Sighs of frustration echoing in my head. My farmer/mechanic/evangelist husband may be busy with any number of things… the corn needs chopped… the oats need fed… round bales put in…the tractor needs repaired…or maybe, again tonight, someone will stop who needs to talk and he will drop all the things that [don’t matter in the end] and listen and offer words of life. 

And I will have the choice again: to be rooted in love or to be wilted in tiredness.

I pray I choose love. God, help me choose you. So I may receive the portion that is put in to fill me up. 

So much time goes by with me drifting. Being pushed here and there by storms and trials. I want to be full. Not wasting away empty and lost. I want my roots to go down deep in Christ. In love.

I’ve got floors to wash. Dishes to do. Laundry piled on my bed. But I want to dance. Know why? The next verse. The promise that follows the call to know love.

“…him who is able to do immeasurably more

 than all we ask or imagine…” 3:20


2 thoughts on “[of.measures]

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