The Cracked Cup
One evening when Joshua was three-years-old, he decided to join his daddy at the kitchen table for a late night meal. Having worked well past sunset, Rob was devouring leftovers while Josh munched graham crackers beside him.
When Rob turned his head to talk to me, Joshua reached for his daddy’s tall glass of water. Mischievously, my littlest boy lifted the glass to his lips and sneaked a sip. Distracted by our casual conversation, Rob continued to eat as Joshua surreptitiously shared his dad’s beverage.
Finally, I pointed to the bright plastic cup near the graham cracker box. “Why don’t you drink from your own cup?” I asked my stealthy son.
“My cup is empty.”
“But I just filled it up when Daddy came home.”
Joshua shrugged his petite shoulders and lifted the child–sized cup to reveal a puddle on the kitchen table. Sure enough, the cup was drained thanks to a hairline crack along the bottom.
“Josh,” I said laughing, as I realized the problem. “I could have given you a new cup.”
“It’s okay,” my littlest boy declared. “Daddy has enough for both of us.”
Without realizing it, my son had articulated the secret to abundant life. And reminded me of why I so desperately need to spend time with my Heavenly Father.
Motherhood is filled with things that crack my cup.
Motherhood is filled with things that crack my cup.
On most days, it feels like my kids take EVERYTHING I’ve got and more.
Even if I begin my day with a hearty dose of hope, I invariably run dry before I fold the last load of laundry or dispense the final good night kiss. When the day ends in a puddle of good intentions and a sigh of frustration, I am left to battle the question, “Why does my heart feel so empty when my hands are so full?”
Like me, mother Angela Thomas wrestles with the cracked cup of motherhood. In her book Tender Mercies for a Mother’s Soul she writes:
No one ever told me that mothering would require more than I possess,
that at the same time it would be energizing and draining….Loving my children
can fill me up, but some days, it will completely empty my soul. To raise children
means that you are constantly giving—all of your energies, all of your emotion,
all of your time. Often I realize that my well is empty, my mind is numb, and my
heart is heavy. There is nothing left for anyone. I am given out. (Tender Mercies for a Mother’s Soul)
In the midst of that disheartening reality is good news: God understands the cracks.
He knows our lives. He knows the energy level it takes to discipline an insolent child, the patience required to calm a fussy baby. He understands the demands of managing our homes, running carpools and still trying to fan the flame of intimacy in our marriages. He oversees potty training and goes to baseball games. He is not annoyed by our weaknesses, nor is he critical of our flawed attempts to parent with grace. He understands motherhood completely.
And He longs to refill our souls.
His cup overflows with everything we need if only we’ll make time to sidle up beside Him and take a sip. In the wise words of one green-eyed boy, “Daddy has enough for both of us!”
The Overflow: Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.” -John 4:10
He does have enough….thank goodness, I have to rely on him daily for strength!
Yesterday, while at the Sarah Palin excitement, Luke asked, “what would pella be like without God.”. I’m sure he meant our country, since “Pella” is his world!
I cringed to think of it, and then I thought….what would I be without him?
Thanks for this beautiful post!
Oh, friend, I’m SO glad I finally got to hear your voice yesterday.. just like the old days of fixing supper and chatting.
Thanks again for the reminder from daily life! God has given you such a gift in seeing spiritual things in the ordinary.
`Robin