A Cup of Grace

 

It’s 9:24 p.m. on a Tuesday and I am tapped out.

My grace cup is empty.

At this point, I spent the day being Wife, Mom, Auntie, caretaker, dishwasher, waitress, daughter, and more.

I’m snappy, irritable, and frustrated.

I have deadlines that are quickly approaching and little desire to meet them.

This is not like me.

This feeling of apathy is a result of my grace cup being empty.

I have a grace cup.

This is the cup from which I pour my love.

My don’t worry about it,

…they probably didn’t mean it that way

My these kids are only going to be little for so long.

My he really needs me to support him right now and not vent about my day.

This is the cup from which I pour my kisses for boo-boos

…and kisses for love.

This is a cup from which I pour my understanding of the disease,

…and mediating yet another seemingly insignificant argument.

This cup is running dry.

 

There are times and seasons in my life where it seems as if this cup is attached to a never-ending spring.

Where it is connected to an automatic refill button that allows me to continually walk-in strength and joy and love.

My grace cup during the season sometimes feel like a pool, a lake, dare I say ocean.

I have people stop and compliment me on how patient I am with my children rather than the behavior

of my children which causes me again to pour grace from my grace cup.

My grace cup is also for me. I pour it on myself when I’m too exhausted to say, “Yes.”

I pour it on me when no, is the only answer yet it leads to disappointment sometimes even my own.

Then there are seasons where my grace cup is depleting faster than it can be filled.

When it feels like a cup, a teacup.

I get stingy with it.

Like I’m running out and I won’t have enough.

I’m parched, I thirst for it but I don’t want to sip too much,

lest I run out because someone may need some grace.

It evaporates like steam from the pressures of self.

By myself.

To myself.

For myself.

It is during this time I am reminded that my grace cup can only be disconnected by me.

My grace cup is never left behind,

but it can be moved.

My grace cup dries from lack of study,

… meditation,

…and prayer.

The remedy is simple

…but difficult.

It requires space, time, and peace.

This peace does not necessarily come from silence,

it does come from being in an environment of total freedom.

For me, that is through my pen.

It’s through being in His presence and writing what I hear,

see,

smell,

taste,

touch.

It’s observing and absorbing.

It’s the acts of empathy in the form of compassion for myself.

Excuse me as I refill my cup.

2 Corinthians 12:9 And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

When can you tell your grace cup is getting low? How do you re-fill your grace cup?

 

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