Surviving Motherhood | And Thriving

I’m not normally one for looking back. But the sight of a coffee cup— of all things—recently hit me like a bombshell and released a flow of memories that took me back to surviving motherhood.

I was at our apartment in Houston where a hodge-podge of dishes is stored in the kitchen cabinets. My husband works in Houston, but we homestead at our home in Mississippi, so we stocked  the apartment with our mismatched or less-wanted odds and ends.

While fumbling for a coffee cup, I found it.  The sight of it caught me by my surprise and made me weak in the knees as tears spilled down my cheeks.

A constant companion for surviving motherhood

It was the cup I’d cradled in my hands for years as a tired, sometimes overwhelmed, and often hesitant mom.

It’s the one I reached for when I got home with a brand-new baby and wondered how in the world I could manage surviving motherhood with a feisty toddler and a husband working overseas.

A couple of years later, I hooked that empty cup onto one thumb so I could hold the hands of two tiny little girls while we made our way down our quarter-mile driveway every afternoon to my neighbor’s front porch swing. She’d fill the cup with hot coffee and I’d sit on her swing for as long as I dared without wearing out my welcome, unspeakably grateful for a little conversation with a human being over the age of four.

On countless school mornings, when I swore I couldn’t stand one more day of fixing hair and packing lunches, that cup sat next to my coffee pot like a golden chalice, my only tangible reward for dragging myself out of bed to encounter a sassy attitude or misplaced homework or another homework folder I’d forgotten to sign.

Cup after cup…

For what seemed like forever, that cup had a place of honor in the console of our minivan as I drove for miles and miles to school, soccer, and cheerleading, unmindful that the hours of monotonous chauffeuring filled with chatter and questions and loud songs on the radio would one day be the moments I’d miss most.

After dropping my girls off on the first day of school each year, that’s the same cup I took with me to sit for hours by by our backyard pool because I couldn’t bear the emptiness of my all-too-quiet house. I always cried softly for a while, mourning the loss of our summer togetherness  and wondering how so much time had passed so quickly.

While staying up late on weekend nights waiting for my teenaged girls to return home from practices or dances or dates, that’s the cup I filled over and over, willing myself to stay alert so I could hear their stories, share in their excitement, and read between the lines to make sure I was hearing what they really wanted to say.

But more than anything, that coffee cup was the sacred vessel I carried with me to our sunroom each day as I met with God, read my Bible, and literally prayed for my life.

Fill my cup, Lord

Over the years, our house echoed constantly with laughter, noise, and conversations. It’s a place where my daughters’ friends gathered freely and where we made our home for 25 years as a family.

But it was the quiet times that shaped my life.

Always with coffee in hand, during naptimes I’d pray for strength when I didn’t think I could make it another minute.

In the quietness of the day, while my kids were at school, I’d beg God for the wisdom to know how many activities were good and helpful and how much was pure craziness.

Through tears, I sought comfort from God when my feelings were hurt or when loneliness overshadowed me. I found peace when I was troubled, and direction when true North was hard to find.

Alone with my coffee cup, I looked into my Bible and faced and fought my fears. I learned to be content. I discovered how to be alone without being lonely. And I found unspeakable joy in the company of the Lord who always met me there.

The cup made it.

That was my overwhelming emotion when I held it gently in my hands that day in our apartment.

The cup had survived.

And, by God’s grace, so had I.

Let me experience Your faithful love in the morning, for I trust in You.

Reveal to me the way I should go because I long for You.

Psalm 143:8