Some days I claim to be too busy to make a cup of tea.
Reaching to fill the kettle while I’ve got a wiggly baby in the other arm, a toddler asking for my attention to her latest drawing, and an eye on the clock to time school pick-up just right simply feels like too much.
It’s silly, especially considering the short distance between sink and stove in our house, but it’s true. Those few steps can seem colossal. Maybe I’ll reach for a snack I don’t really need instead, or at least neglect the glass of water on the counter that would do me a lot more good.
The days can feel so full that I don’t seem to have a moment to stop and rest. So I jam more activities and movement in, trying to keep busy. Especially when I’m tired, I keep moving just to make sure I don’t stop, so I’ll know that I used up every precious moment. Too often, what I don’t ask myself if I’m using those moments well.
Lately I’ve realized that — gasp! — it doesn’t take that much effort to make a cup of tea. It’s okay to heat the water in the microwave instead of the kettle. And it’s okay if it takes me all day to drink it.
Physically, my body does better when it’s hydrated. And having something with a little flavor helps me not eat something that doesn’t make me feel good twenty minutes later. Leaving space on the counter to set it down means acknowledging that I need space, too. My brain needs room to step back and prioritize. My soul needs wiggle room to process what’s happened, what’s up next, and where I am right now.
When I make a cup of tea for myself, it’s more than a cup of tea. It’s a confession of my need for a quiet moment. It’s a celebration of the good things that have happened. It’s solace when things don’t turn out as I’d hoped.
It looks like just a cup of tea, but in this season of life it’s more than that. It’s a prayer of thanksgiving for all God has blessed me with.
Can I get an Earl Grey-scented “Amen”?
Copyright 2018 Lindsay Schlegel