When the Word Slows You Down: What Ephesians 3 Revealed to Me This Morning

Some mornings with Scripture feel like walking into a room you’ve entered a thousand times and suddenly seeing something you never noticed. Not because it wasn’t there, but because you weren’t still enough to see it. Today was one of those mornings for me in Ephesians 3.

I wasn’t searching for anything dramatic. I was simply reading. Slow. Quiet. Present. The kind of reading where you choose communion over productivity. Where you set aside the urge to “get through” the passage and instead let the passage get into you.

And right there in verses 14 to 19, Paul’s prayer opened like a window.

He prays that Christ would dwell in our hearts through faith. He prays that we would be rooted and grounded in love. He prays that we would have the strength to comprehend His love. He prays that we would be filled with the fullness of God.

I’ve read those lines more times than I can count, but today the Spirit slowed me down long enough for something to land. It wasn’t new information. It was a new angle. A new way to see the depth of what Paul was praying over the church.

A Jar of Elderberry and a Holy Spirit Reveal

I was working on elderberry syrup later that morning and pouring it into jars. Watching the empty glass fill with this thick, dark, healing syrup sparked something. A jar can only become what it holds. Fill it with medicine and it becomes a jar of medicine. Its purpose shifts. Its value shifts. What it carries defines it.

And that’s the moment the Spirit connected the dots for me.

Before Christ, We Aren’t Empty Vessels

Before Christ we aren’t neutral or blank. Scripture says we’re dead in sin, and deadness fills us. We’re like jars packed with mud. The kind that settles heavy and dries hard. It cracks us. It weighs us down. It distorts everything.

We were created to carry glory, but instead we carry what drains us. Anger. Regret. Fear. Shame. Self-protection.

These things don’t fill us with life. They hollow us out. They turn us inward until we can’t see beyond ourselves. We feel empty, but we’re full of the wrong things. And that’s why we struggle to love well. We’re trying to pour from a vessel that only has mud.

Sin doesn’t just make us guilty. It makes us incapable of holding anything holy.

The Turning Point: “But God…”

And then grace steps in.

When Christ dwells in us through the Spirit, everything changes. Paul uses the Greek word katoikeo, which means to settle down, take up residence, make Himself at home. Christ doesn’t hover at the door. He moves in.

He clears out the mud. He restores the cracks. He fills the places we thought could never hold anything good again.

Slowly, the vessel becomes what it holds. Love starts shaping us. Strength from the Spirit makes comprehension possible. The Word starts sinking in instead of running off the surface.

We start walking in purpose. We start seeking joy even in sorrow. We start carrying light into dark places.

Not because we’re strong, but because He dwells deeply.

But We Aren’t Like Jars That Never Crack

Here’s the part that humbled me today. A jar of syrup holds every drop unless it’s cracked. We’re not like that. We leak. Especially early in our walk with Christ.

We receive truth in the morning and lose it to fear by night. We feel loved one minute and forgotten the next. We trust and then slip back into old patterns.

Not because He isn’t enough. But because our cracks haven’t healed yet.

This is why Paul prays for believers to be rooted and grounded in love. Deep roots don’t let storms uproot a tree. A solid foundation doesn’t crack when shaken. And a life rooted in Christ’s love begins to hold what He pours in.

That’s where capacity grows.

Capacity Comes Through Response, Not Earning

Paul doesn’t pray that God forces Himself on us. He prays from humility and surrender, asking God to act according to His character. But he assumes something about the believer.

He assumes we will yield. He assumes we will open our hearts. He assumes we will make room for Christ to dwell.

This is where our choices matter.

We choose to offer Him our cracks. We choose to stay open instead of shutting down. We choose to return to Him instead of returning to old mud. We choose humility, faith, and rootedness.

And over time our capacity changes. Some Christians carry deep love because they’ve allowed deep healing. Others love God sincerely yet stay stuck because they refuse to deal with the mud.

Christ fills. The Spirit strengthens. The Father roots us in love.

But we decide whether we stay receptive.

A Final Word

This morning’s reading reminded me that we are always becoming what we hold. Christ is willing to dwell deeply, fill fully, and heal completely. But He will not force His way into places we keep locked.

We were made to carry glory. We were made to shine light. We were made to live filled.

The question is simple.

What are you holding today. And are you willing to let Him make Himself at home in every part of your heart.