Love From Overflow, Not Emptiness

February Thoughts from My Journal — HIS Organics®

This morning, I found myself thinking about love.

Not the kind that comes with flowers or reservations.

But the quiet kind.

The kind that lives in the everyday — in the cooking, the showing up, the listening, the holding things together.

And I had to ask myself something honestly: Have I ever loved in a way that slowly abandoned me?

I think many women have.

We call it strength.We call it commitment.We call it being dependable.

But sometimes… it is simply loving from emptiness.

I have noticed something over the years.

There is a version of love that looks generous outwardly but feels exhausting inwardly.

You give because you care.You serve because you are capable.You carry because you can.

And one day you realize you have not checked in with yourself in a very long time.

Your shoulders are tight.Your sleep is lighter.Your body feels like it is bracing for something it cannot name.

And you tell yourself, “I’m fine.”

But deep down, you know you are tired.

Not physically alone.

You're soul tired.

That is what I now understand as self-abandoning love.

It is when you disappear inside your devotion.

I do not believe God designed love to cost us ourselves.

Psalm 23 says, “My cup overflows.”

Overflow.

Not barely holding on.

Not scraping the bottom.

Not cracking under pressure.

Overflow means there is enough for me too.

And that has required me to relearn something.

Rest is not selfish. Rhythm is not laziness. Tending to my body is not indulgence.

It is stewardship.

There are evenings now when I light the Remember You candle and just sit.

No phone.

No multitasking.

Just quiet.

Sometimes I prepare a warm cup of herbal tea and allow the steam to slow my breathing before the night begins.

Other nights, I run a bath and add our mineral soak — letting the warmth and herbs ease the tension my shoulders have been carrying all day.

And when I step out, I apply the Remember You body oil slowly, intentionally — not rushing — just honoring that this body has carried me faithfully.

These small rituals are not about luxury.

They are about presence.

They are about choosing not to abandon myself.

I am learning that love poured out must first be love poured in.

If I am constantly depleted, eventually what spills out of me will be irritation, not tenderness.

If I am always pushing through exhaustion, eventually I will resent the very people I am trying to serve.

And that is not the kind of love I want to offer.

I want to love from overflow.

From steadiness.

From calm.

From wholeness.

So this February, I am making a quiet commitment.

I will not disappear inside my devotion.

I will not call depletion virtue.

I will not confuse endurance with holiness.

I will fill.

I will rest.

I will remember that my cup matters too.

And if you are reading this and recognizing yourself in these words, let this be your permission as well.

Love from overflow.

Not emptiness.

A Prayer for You

Father,

I lift the woman reading this right now.

You see the ways she shows up. You see the ways she carries more than she says. You see where she has been strong for everyone else.

If she has been loving from emptiness, gently show her.

If she has been abandoning herself in the name of devotion, restore her.

Calm her nervous system.

Ease the tension in her shoulders.

Give her permission to rest without guilt.

Remind her that she does not have to disappear to be worthy.

She does not have to overextend to be chosen.

She does not have to exhaust herself to be faithful.

Fill her cup, Father.

Not just enough to survive — but enough to overflow.

Let her love from steadiness.

From security.

From the quiet confidence of being held by You.

And as she tends to her body, her home, her heart — meet her there.

Restore her rhythm.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

With care,

DeNise

CEO, HIS Organics®