Some cups get all the hype

I wanted to curl up in a corner and moan myself to sleep, but instead I had to juggle and fuss and rock and referee between two tiny, whiny, grumpy baby girls. In the grand ‘ole middle of it all, I had this fierce kind of battle going on in my head: I hate my job right now.  I really, really want to be just about anywhere but here right now. This is awful. But this is my cup. This is my cup. This is my cup. 

On the drive home, I let Brother Francis lull the girls into a blessed quiet, and I tried to recollect myself a little. I found myself fishing out my phone and getting ready to text Michael, my mom, and a couple of friends some clever message about how awful the doctor’s visit had been.But I didn’t end up texting anybody. Because I got to thinking. “Sick young momma with fussy-and-also-sick young children in the doctor’s office.” The situation had seemed so unendurable in the moment. It sounded so small and common after the fact.

My mom and aunts came to my mind. And then I felt a little guilty and a lot grateful.My mom and aunts are caretakers for their aging parents. Taking an elderly man with severe dementia to the doctor can be much, much more stressful and embarrassing than what I had just gone through. My mom is not one to complain, but I know they’ve been through shockingly difficult moments. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I had to do some of the things they’ve had to do.

Taking Care of Aging Parents is a much less celebrated and talked about cup than Young Motherhood. And that’s saying something, ‘cuz it takes a lot to make motherhood look glamorous.

My mom and her sisters don’t have the hope of things getting better, or the hope of delighting in the abundant harvest of their labor one day (at least here on earth). They don’t have a bunch of inspiring blogs about Caregiving to read. Their Kindles aren’t full of cute e-books on finding domestic bliss and raising little saints.

They don’t text their friends and husbands every time they have a rough day: “Look-I’m-so-clever-and-making-light-of-it-but-really-please-do-feel-sorry-for-me-and-bring-me-chocolate.”

 

The grace I need for my cup at a doctor’s appointment is to make it through without bursting into tears, yelling, or being too impatient with the children in public. The grace that my mom needs at a doctor’s appointment with my grandfather is different and specific to her.Both of our cups are hard for us to swallow in the moment. But both cups are filled with the same grace, exactly sufficient for what we need.

I don’t think “sufficient grace” means that we will be able to skip in on a cloud and smile through life’s tough moments.

Maybe sufficient grace means that we are able to wait to cry until we get home.

Maybe sufficient grace is having the thought, when we’re in the thick of things, that there is someone we are dear to who knows, respects, and sympathizes with our struggle.

Maybe sufficient grace is learning to let that person be Jesus alone.