That blue mug

That blue mug

At first it was a mug of encouragement, getting me through the hurdles of preparing my body for pregnancy / our double frozen embryo transfer. I’d sip my coffee + too much hazelnut creamer while the girls colored rainbows on the driveway with chalk, trying to take a deep breath and get through the day not feeling like myself (thanks but no thanks to the shots and meds).
Then there was the loss. (Click to read post.) So I ignored the mug for awhile. I pushed it to the back of the cabinet, not wanting to see its chipper encouragement. I was bitter that the hurdles I tried to bravely jump led me here: standing before a shelf of mugs, having lost the two ‘little victories’ we fought hard for through our Frozen Embryo Transfer.
The word “celebrate” just didn’t seem right. So I chose my “J” mug from anthropologie, or my Magnolia Press mug, or Shawn’s “This Is Bourbon” coffee mug instead. Somehow that seemed much more fitting. I’d pour some boiling water over my chai and, much like before, I’d move on through the day.
And in time, I realized I was still celebrating the small victories. Just in a different way.
I was celebrating the little victory of having cried over our loss, and not rushing past the feelings or hiding them. The feelings matter because grief is the price of love. The story matters to God, so it’s one we embrace and feel.
I was celebrating having swept AND mopped in the same day. Anyone else see this as a pretty big deal?
I was celebrating God’s goodness in our lives in the form of community – a community we prayed for while we were still living in Cheyenne, Wyoming… before we even knew there was a San Angelo, Texas! I see it in our neighbor who randomly tells me she’s going to the store if I need anything (we live outside of city limits…granted it’s only about 10 minutes from town, but it feels far when you only need one thing from the store). I see it in the neighbors who love our girls, invest in their lives, and even request to watch them from time to time so we can have a date night. (So dreamy, and no you cannot have them as your neighbors because they’re ours and we don’t share well.) I see it in the book club I’m a part of where I see my fellow mom friends wanting to live out the Gospel with their lives and their mothering.
I was celebrating a morning where I spoke with kindness. You know, the real kind where you don’t roll your eyes and have a frustrated tone. (That’s only done with God’s strength…)
I was celebrating a double nap time and the indulgent couch nap for myself.
I was celebrating a husband who makes wine and hummus and roasts his own coffee beans and makes the best breakfast burritos and loves me always – and tells me he does.
I was celebrating the way Noella puts her hand on an upset Shilo’s arm and says, “It’s okay honey.”
The royal blue mug of encouragement is back in rotation. Sometimes with peppermint hot tea in the evenings (because I’m precisely 100 years of age.)
God is good, no matter what. And the ultimate, ultimate victory is not found in our own lives, or in our present circumstances, but in Him. And that’s something worth celebrating every day, all day, forever and ever.
Amen? Amen!


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *