Drink Life Fully In-Between
We're all living in the in-between – that friction between our past, present, and future. No longer who we were, not yet who we'll become. Today, let's move past protesting where we are and start drinking fully from the cup of life right now.
I. The Anatomy of Protest: The "If Only" Trap
We often live in a state of "if only." If only I hadn't done that. If only I was stronger. If only I didn't make those stupid choices when I was younger, I'd be doing better now. This keeps us in regret, longing for something different instead of living in the present.
We're protesting our past – frustrated with who we were. Or protesting our present: I don't have the finances to get the car fixed. No help with elderly parents. I wish the house would sell. These frustrations block us from drinking fully from the cup we have right now.
Viktor Frankl, psychologist in a Nazi concentration camp where everything was stripped away – dignity, research, life itself – said despair is suffering without meaning. When we regret the past or resist the now, we lose meaning.
II. The Compassionate Look Back: Befriending Your In-Between
Henri Nouwen, a priest whose wisdom I love, said the real trap isn't success, power, or popularity. It's self-rejection. When we reject our past self, we're trapped. The shift? Compassion for the person we were – who did the best she could with what she knew.
This hit home for me. Years ago, I looked at my messy choices: controlling behaviors born from fear, chasing a perfect family that hurt us all. To cope, alcohol and relationship struggles I regret. But in Dr. Henry Cloud's course on recovering from divorce, he said: That younger you didn't have today's information, coping skills, or resources. She did her best. Have compassion. Embrace her.
That's the power. Instead of judging our messy edges, observe your current in-between state with kindness. Henri Nouwen says the in-between is where growth happens. Steven Furtick calls it the space between who I was, who I am, and who I'm becoming. Compassion means full immersion in being human – crying with those who mourn, rejoicing with those who rejoice.
Viktor Frankl again: Everything can be taken but one thing – the last human freedom: to choose your attitude. They couldn't take that in the camps.
Question for you: Can you have compassion right now for your in-between? For who you are today?
III. Put the Cup of Life to Your Lips and Drink Fully, Even When It's Hard
We befriend not who we wish we were, but who we are now. Two cups from my grandparents show this: One from Depression-era New Orleans, earned with stamps. Simple glass. The other, etched champagne from my more affluent grandmother. Different lives, same truth: You can drink muddy water, beer, or champagne from either. Life fills the cup. We choose what we do with it.
Instead of begrudging others, ask: What's in my hand? Look at the good and bad with compassion. Drink fully.
Putting the cup to our lips means shifting: Not what life gives us, but what life expects from us. How can I serve others and be fully alive amid hardship?
Jesus shared that he would have a difficult cup to drink ahead: the cross. Yet he drank fully. David in Psalm 23 said his cup overflows - even at a table set before enemies. Was that abundance to share with others?!
Henri Nouwen posited that drinking life's cup means fully appropriating it – taking in sorrows and joys. Hold it with compassion. Drink fully. It's celebrating being human. L'chaim! To life! Whether our hearts lie panting on the floor or we are celebrating a wedding.
It's okay to fight to improve your situation and yourself. But wishing for someone else's life- that looks like despair. When you change your thinking, you change your life. Joy doesn't just happen. You have to choose it every day. We're at the end of 2025. Let's make it great; here's to life!
Your Turn: Drink Fully Challenge
What's one "if only" protest stealing your presence today? What energy could it free if you let that go?
Name one messy situation you can view with compassion this week.
What's in your hand right now? How will you drink fully from your cup before year's end – and what's the first sign others will notice?
Share in the CoJoy, and let's end 2025 present, compassionate, and fully alive.
P.S. Check out Henri Nouwen's, Can You Drink the Cup? 2006
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