In my last post I wrote about learning to love in a new way. A kind of love that requires more intention, more awareness, and often, more surrender. I’m still on that journey, and lately, God has been showing me something deeper through the simple act of pouring juice.
There are these videos that I have seen on social media. They started popping up for me a while ago and they just kind of stuck out to me. They feature a young uncle and his toddler niece. They sit together and he asks her to pour juice, or some other liquid from one container into a small glass cup. On her first few attempts it was a mess. Juice spills everywhere. The glass is barely filled, but the table is soaked. The uncle doesn’t flinch. He just smiles, encourages her, and lets her try again.
Fast forward, and she’s become an expert. she’s now pouring juice with precision and sipping it with pride. It’s a skill that she learned at a very young age that many others her age continued to struggle with. But she learned because someone gave her space to learn. Now, her little brothers have been learning too, and she watches each of them on their journey as they spill and struggle. She joins her uncle to show the same calm confidence once shown to her.
That image stuck with me. Because lately, trying to love others feels a bit like that messy pour. I’m not loving from a place of comfort and familiarity right now. I’m loving from a place that feels… stretched. I’m trying to pour love not from instinct or routine, but from a deeper well of grace and purpose. And that’s a beautiful thing but it’s also a little messy. Sometimes the energy spills over the edge. Sometimes I feel like I’ve poured everything out and barely hit the target. I’m trying to be intentional and patient and kind, even when I feel empty. There’s extra effort, extra emotional residue, and a temptation to feel like I’m failing. It looks an awful lot like the little girl sitting at the table with a near empty cup and a mess on the table.
But God reminded me:
“You’re just learning how to pour. Give yourself grace.”
I realize, just like that toddler, I’m practicing something new. I’m learning how to love differently, more intentionally, and that takes time. Skill develops with repetition. Strength grows with practice. My goal remains the same, fill the cup. I just need some new strategies to accomplish the goal in the meantime that help me to keep my sanity and avoid crashing. Pouring from a near empty cup was causing me to feel anxious, frustrated and short tempered. All these emotions act as triggers for my love to resort to looking like it did before. Controlling, judgmental and conditional. One of the most efficient tools I have used has been recognizing when I am nearing empty and that I need to let God refill me. That means giving myself permission to slow down. To rest (remember I love a good nap). To spend time with Him, not because I should, but because I need to. I need His love to fill me first, or else everything I pour will run dry.
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up on wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31
This was such a hard thing for me to do initially. The concept of rest can feel really complicated. Somewhere along the way, many of us picked up the belief that rest is synonymous with laziness. We believe that if we pause, if we stop producing, if we step away from the constant doing, we are somehow falling behind or failing. We measure our worth by our productivity, by the amount of check marks on our to-do list, by how many people we served. But the truth is, rest isn’t laziness, it’s part of the process. Without rest the quality of the product will be diminished. In this case the product was my love. For me, however, the hard part wasn’t resting, it was resting well. I had no problem stepping aside for quiet time when I was feeling depleted, but the enemy did attack my mind in those times. I felt like a failure for not being able to do what everyone else was seemingly able to do with ease. I heard him whisper that I was a bad mom for needing a break from my kids. I allowed the lies to echo in my mind, and it only ended up making me feel more depleted. I needed to intentionally rest in Him to be renewed, because the kind of rest we are used to doesn’t restore. Now don’t get me wrong physical rest is important and very much a part of how I refill myself, but alone it is insufficient.
This is still a work in progress for me but, I know that God is sitting next to me watching me do my best. He is graciously giving me the space to be messy, the resources to improve and the encouragement to try again. And maybe one day, I’ll be the one who can pour steadily, lovingly, even in hard seasons. Maybe I’ll be the one to see someone else struggle and say, with quiet confidence, “Keep going. You’re doing beautifully.”
Until then, I’ll keep showing up to the table.
I’ll keep pouring, even when it’s messy.
Because this kind of love?
It’s worth it.