Running on Empty

My cup is metaphorical.

It holds love. Love for others, love for myself.

I splash love on everyone with my cup.

The only problem with my splashing was that after I loved someone, I would hold out my (now) empty cup in their direction to be filled up by their opinions of me. And when people liked me, I felt filled up. I was filling my cup with their splashes of good opinions, and I thought that would fill me. If they liked me, appreciated me, or pursued me, then I felt filled up. And it worked, for a bit… just enough to keep me coming back for more.

But what happens when they don’t? When you go unnoticed? Unappreciated? When you’re holding out your empty cup in the direction of people holding out their empty cup in your direction?

Holding my cup outward crept into my marriage, ministry, and eventually I found myself holding out my cup to be filled by my son.

I recall seeing a boy the same age as my son take his first steps at nine months. I knew I should be excited but because I was holding out my cup in my son’s direction, I felt disappointed.

I persistently would stand him up; he would smile and plop right back down. I was experiencing an emptiness and decline in my joy as I was searching for it away from its Source.  

Who knew (but God, of course), I needed to take a step first.

We are designed to love like our Maker, not out of a need to fill an emptiness but to share fullness. In friendships. In ministry. In parenting. In life. This is only possible by holding our cup upward instead of out. Then, we’d effortlessly overflow into the lives of others; not from ourselves, but from the Source, so that He can be their Source, too.