Pouring From The Empty Cup
There are many versions of a woman that we become over time; however, for me, the most transformative experience was becoming a mother.
Pre-motherhood, I would preach the mantra “You can’t pour from an empty cup” till I was blue in the face. I wholeheartedly believed there was no way to effectively and meaningfully add value to other people’s lives if you run on fumes 24/7. While there is so much truth to that mindset, I don’t think I truly knew what it felt like to “run on fumes” until I became a mother.
I laugh about it now only because looking back, I’m like, “Kaela, you weren’t even close to empty when you thought you were coasting into the station.” Now, to give pre-motherhood Kaela a break, for the seasons I was in, my capacity was very low. This is also the beauty of maturing and evolving. As each new season sweeps into play, we emerge as a more capable and stronger version of ourselves.
Motherhood did this for me.
Pouring from an empty cup, or so it seems, is how motherhood has felt for me. It’s hard, exhausting, and lonely, and it has stripped my body of all prior resemblance. However, motherhood is also liberating, joyful, refining, and sweet. There have been many moments where I’ve thought, “There’s no way I can wake up at 2 am again to pump,” or “I wonder if being a single parent would be less emotional work than trying to navigate this new season with Landon.” While each thought has run circles in my brain, The Lord has also quietly reminded me that “He didn’t call the equipped.”
New is new. That doesn’t mean new is bad.
Motherhood is new and finding the new depth of that cup is hard.
Because that’s the reality. I don’t think, as Christians, that our cups are truly ever empty. As each new season ripples into effect, I think the depth of our cup stretches, and our willingness or ability to see the blessing that is, is often shrinking.
Another thing to do.
Another place to be.
Another mouth to feed.
So many things to do, so little time.
Does this make sense? Does this sound familiar?
I think this whole time, I’ve always thought my lack of desire to give more or be more was masked by a “My cup is empty” heart posture. Let’s be clear, there is NOTHING wrong with saying “no” and compartmentalizing different aspects of life because that is healthy – this is also not the conversation we’re having. What I’m saying is, that I think we put ourselves in a box and choose to believe that we are stretched to our max when in reality our mindset and belief in God is too small.
Motherhood didn’t magically give me a Mary Poppins bag-sized capacity; it honestly gave me a Mary Poppins bag-sized list of things to do and be. But what motherhood did do for me, was give me the realization that my perception and mindset towards my life determines the capacity of my cup, as well as my willingness to pour from it.
Have you ever heard the analogy that still water breeds disease?
I think this can be applied to our cups. Our lives. Our hearts.
If we are constantly in a scarcity mindset and harbor the (what we think to be) little left over in our cups, it sits idle, becomes ridden with sludge, and is nasty, non-life bearing, and stale.
But, if we continually pour into the lives and things we have the gift of being able to, the joy that The Lord provides in return for those moments compounds our cups. In turn, deepening our capacity, replenishing the well, and changing our heart posture.
See, our cups are truly never empty. It begs the question though is the quality of the water we choose to manifest, when we feel like we’re scratching the bottom of the barrel, good enough to nurture the grass we’ve planted?
You never truly pour from an empty cup.
You actually get to choose the depth of it, the quality of the water, and the extent of its impact.
What a beautiful freaking realization and honor.
Cheers to your cup.
Cheers to mine.
May they runneth over all the days of our lives.
XX, Kaela
