I gave up my morning coffee.

Okay, let me clarify. I still drink coffee every morning. Every. Dang. Morning. You better believe I’m not going without it!

But what I gave up is waking up extra early just to have a cup in peace before the day starts.

I used to do this like clockwork, setting my alarm for at least a half hour, if not an hour, before I knew the girls would most likely be awake.
And at first, it began as a self-care practice. It was my little window of quiet before the chaos started, and it helped me start the day off on the right foot.

But if I’m being honest, over time, it became something I felt entitled to. Something that I clang to with a super tight fist. Something that would automatically ruin my day before it even started it I didn’t get it.

And I slowly began to feel the pull that something needed to change.

Fast forward and the season of sickness hit our household… and hit it HARD. It took everything in me to get out of bed at all, let alone before I actually “had” to.
And so… I let myself sleep in.
And slowly but surely I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, that cup of coffee wasn’t something I needed anymore.

Because what do I really need?

I need the extra few minutes of sleep.
I need to see my daughter walking into our room each morning as a blessing and not a burden.
I need to rely on God’s strength to get me through the day more so than a cup of caffeine.

And so now, my first cup of coffee is drank lukewarm at the kitchen table sitting between a four year old who won’t stop talking and a one year old who keeps throwing food on the floor.

And you know what? I truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are still occasional mornings where I’ll sneak downstairs for a little r&r… but I’m learning to now view that as a special treat that overflows my tank, instead of an essential that will fill it.

Thank you, Jesus, for cold cups of coffee in the middle of absolute chaos. These really are the best days of my life.

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