Fill Me Now

A few months before 2000 my family became homeless because of a fire in the kitchen. One couple let us used one of there apartment, to small for a family of 6 children, but it was a roof over us. A dear brother in the Lord introduce me to the little hymn ‘Fill My Cup, Lord.’

Fill my cup, Lord; I lift it up Lord;
Come and quench this thirsting of my soul.
Bread of Heaven, feed me till I want no more.
Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole.

I wonder if that devotion inspire the author of that hymn?

Fill Me Lord

The longing of my soul to be filled with God is not satisfied yet. I have seen and realized much of the joy and rest of a life of faith since last I wrote in this book, but I am sure there is still a greater work of grace which it is my privilege to experience by faith. I want the conscious indwelling of the Spirit. I want the manifested presence of my Jesus in my soul! I want, in short, to be filled with all the fullness of God! This is my privilege, I am not sure what is it that holds me back.
Oh my God, sanctify me wholly. I don’t know what this means exactly—I am ignorant of the extent to which the cleansing blood of Jesus can purify, but whatever it is, oh my Saviour, grant it to me to the very utmost limit! I lack wisdom on this subject, and I come to you in faith to teach me. Let me know your own mind fully and let nothing keep me from entering in to all the rest of faith that you have in store for me. Oh! don’t let me frustrate your grace. This is my longing cry—don’t let me in any way or in the slightest degree frustrate your grace.
Oh Lord, fill me now! Fill me now! Shed abroad your love in my heart now! Sanctify me wholly now!
—Journal, September 3, 1867

Hannah Whitall Smith and Melvin Easterday Dieter, The Christian’s Secret of a Holy Life: The Unpublished Personal Writings of Hannah Whitall Smith (Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997).

Written by a 18 years old young man

“After this my sense of divine things gradually increased, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward sweetness. The appearance of every thing was altered; there seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost every thing. God’s excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to appear in every thing; in the sun, moon, and stars; in the clouds, and blue sky; in the grass, flowers, trees; in the water, and all nature; which used greatly to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the moon for continuance; and in the day, spent much time in viewing the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things: in the mean time, singing forth, with a low voice, my contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer. And scarce any thing, among all the works of nature, was so sweet to me as thunder and lightning; formerly, nothing had been so terrible to me. Before, I used to be uncommonly terrified with thunder, and to be struck with terror when I saw a thunder-storm rising; but now, on the contrary, it rejoiced me. I felt God, so to speak, at the first appearance of a thunder-storm; and used to take the opportunity, at such times, to fix myself in order to view the clouds, and see the lightnings play, and hear the majestic and awful voice of God’s thunder, which oftentimes was exceedingly entertaining, leading me to sweet contemplations of my great and glorious God. While thus engaged, it always seemed natural to me to sing, or chant forth my meditations; or, to speak my thoughts in soliloquies with a singing voice.”

“Holiness, as I then wrote down some of my contemplations on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, pleasant, charming, serene, calm nature; which brought an inexpressible purity, brightness, peacefulness, and ravishment to the soul. In other words, that it made the soul like a field or garden of God, with all manner of pleasant flowers; all pleasant, delightful, and undisturbed; enjoying a sweet calm, and the gently vivifying beams of the sun. The soul of a true Christian, as I then wrote my meditations, appeared like such a little white flower as we see in the spring of the year; low and humble on the ground, opening its bosom, to receive the pleasant beams of the sun’s glory; rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rapture; diffusing around a sweet fragrancy; standing peacefully and lovingly, in the midst of other flowers round about; all in like manner opening their bosoms, to drink in the light of the sun. There was no part of creature-holiness, that I had so great a sense of its loveliness, as humility, brokenness of heart, and poverty of spirit; and there was nothing that I so earnestly longed for. My heart panted after this,—to lie low before God, as in the dust; that I might be nothing, and that God might be all, that I might become as a little child.” —Jonathan Edwards