Replete with Me

If thou could`st empty all thyself of self by Sir Thomas Browne

If thou could`st empty all thyself of self

If thou could`st empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf,
And say, `This is not dead`,
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou
And hast such shrewd activity,
That when He comes, He says, `This is enow
Unto itself - `twere better let it be,
It is so small and full, there is no room for me.`

I love this poem. I first read it back in elementary school, and in all honesty, I had no idea what it meant, but it reverberated within me, making it impossible for me to forget it. Now, about fifteen years later, I understand what Browne was trying to say, and I love it even more.
However, there is one line, where, while I agree with him and the point he is making, I believe can be read and applied to a different meaning.

First: Let's look at authorial intent. The basic essence of the poem is actually quite clear to understand (to anyone who's NOT seven, that is). When we are at the point in our lives where we can empty ourselves of us, of our ridiculous human pettiness, then God can come in and transform us by filling us with Himself. While the world may see our emptiness as a sign of death, the Lord takes it as an invitation to give us new life - His life. However, when we are "replete" with us, and all of our human foibles, then there is no place for God. He cannot work within us, so he walks away and lets us be.

However, as I was walking the other day, I felt completely satisfied and at peace. And it reminded me of the line "replete with very thou." For one of the first times in a while, I was completely okay with who I am and where I was going. I wasn't worried or stressing or insecure. I had a clear sense of who I was, and while my future was still unknown, I wasn't worried, because I knew I would make it, because that is who I am and what I do. And I knew God was okay with me being "replete with me" in this sense, because He is the one who made me and loved me as myself. In this regard, I was fulfilling one of my purposes as His daughter. In accepting who I was and trusting my future with Him, I was praising Him. Still, I was "replete" with me, without masks, without excuses, without interference or influence.

And maybe I've already been emptied (Lord knows I've been empty) and filled again, and Browne meant to say that we can't fully be ourselves until we are filled with Him first. But that isn't coming through necessarily. Because of this, I almost feel like this poem isn't finished. There's more to be written to complete the story. And most likely, it will always remain incomplete in written form, but our lives, our lives can finish it. We can find the answers to the implied and inferred questions within the poems just by living.

And I'm tired and medicated as I write this, so I apologize that I'm failing to get all of my racing thoughts and ideas down in a lucid and cohesive form, but maybe this skeleton will at least get you thinking, and maybe, just maybe, you will write your own ending to this poem. Or at least start a discussion in the comment section.