I used to hear a verse like this and immediately translate it into a strategy. How do we get more people under the sound. How do we fill the room. How do we make sure the glory has a path. And look, rooms matter. Sound matters. Somebody has to show up and open the door. I'm not arguing against any of that.

But this verse will not let you make yourself the water. The earth gets filled, and you are not the filling. You may be a cup somebody drinks from on the way. You may be a ditch that carries runoff for a season. You are not the sea. Which is a relief if you'll take it that way, because if the earth being filled depends on your next thirty days of content, your body already knows that math doesn't close.

Anchored in Habakkuk 2:14. Part of The Waiting Season, a walk through the three chapters of Habakkuk.