What's Your Cup Size?

Being a single mom to two sons meant that sometimes I had to deal with things that made me ... well ... ummm ... that made me a bit uncomfortable to say the least. Like when one of them had a tick in a spot on his body that no mother wants to see once her son becomes a teenager. Or when I had to explain the birds and the bees to them ... oh, that was not fun at all for me and it was even less fun for my sons. Sometimes, however, those really uncomfortable situations ended up becoming funny and timeless memories with my two now all grown-up boys. One of my favorites of all time involves shopping for cups ... not the kind you drink out of, but the kind boys wear to protect themselves when they're playing sports. I will never ever forget taking my sons shopping for their first cups, nor will I forget their answers when I asked what size they thought they needed. Considering how alike the two of them are in many ways, it probably shouldn't have surprised me when they both immediately answered in the deepest voices they could muster, "Extra large!" Go ahead ... laugh out loud ... especially if you're the mother of a son or sons ... you know every male child on the planet has given the same reply when asked what size cup he needed. Of course they have.

There is a common, recurring theme in many of the emails I receive ... a common, recurring theme that hurts my heart each time I read it. It makes my heart ache for the people who write to me, but it also hurts my heart because I know exactly how they feel. I understand how they feel because I have felt it so many times myself ... because I still feel it sometimes even now. Doubting your worth or value ... wondering if you're really helping anyone ... contemplating whether or not you make a positive difference in the lives of those who know you ... questioning your reason for living. I've learned over the last couple of years that when I'm in that place ... that doubting, wondering, contemplating, questioning place ... that's when someone always seems to say just the right words at just the right time to cause me to remember that my journey is way, way, way more about other people than it is about me. It will forever strike me as odd that it's when I'm at my lowest point that someone steps up and reaches for my heart and takes my hand and helps me find my way. And before you even think it, my friend ... I know what you're shouting at the screen as you read ... that what I should have written is "It will forever strike me as God ..." I know, my friend ... I know.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend asked me for some parenting advice concerning something her oldest child was struggling with ... that's right, believe or not, she asked me for advice. And get this ... she's known me for many years, so she knows exactly how completely crazy and irrational I can be, and she still trusted me enough to ask me for advice about raising her kids. After chatting for a while, she hugged me and thanked me for sharing my opinion as to how I thought she could best handle the situation with her kiddo. Neither of us had mentioned the conversation since that day ... until last Thursday when she responded to an email I had sent her with some pictures of my granddaughters.

"Thank you so much for your kind words and encouragement to be a mom. As you know it's a tough and thankless job but I love the encouragement you give me and I want you to know you fill my cup. You as a person are someone I love spending time with and hearing your words of wisdom :) and I'm sad when you're down because you have so, so much to give."

My friend had no way of knowing how very much I needed to read her words last week ... she had no idea I was smack dab in the middle of one of those doubting, wondering, contemplating, questioning places. She had no way of knowing how very much I needed to read her words exactly when I read them ... just the right words at just the right time. See, friends, here's the thing ... the size of my cup doesn't make one bit of difference at all, not even one slight hint of a difference. What makes a difference is whether or not I'm filling the cups of others ... what makes a difference isn't what I'm receiving but rather what I'm giving. No matter what size cup I have, it's how much I pour out of it and into the cups of others that matters. Funny thing is the more I care about filling the cups of others, the less I worry about my own cup being empty. That's a pretty big lesson, eh? The more I care about other people, the less I worry about me ... that's a really, really, really big lesson. The more I care about others, the less I worry about me ... that's a really, really, really big lesson, friends ... a really big lesson indeed.