Three Taverns Church

When All The Coffee Mugs Broke


Hi there folks, I’ve got another great post from our guest writer, “Jane”. Enjoy!

Remember how I said God started to break my self-identity? Well, He started the process with my coffee mugs. One year, over a few months’ time, every mug I identified with broke.

My very favorite mug was one that said, “Wench, proudly serving since the 11th century.” I loved that it was sassy and black. I liked how a corset bound up the “W” and I completely identified with the statement written on it.

See, I felt like a wench in my own home. I don’t mean wench in the sexual connotation of the word. If that were the case it might have made the use of my “services” easier to bear. Rather, I felt unappreciated for cooking, cleaning and organizing the social calendar for my family. I planned and created memory-making events for my family, alone. I smiled at church, took the family pictures and everything else that I felt was the right thing to do. Yet I was incredibly lonely in my house and I went to bed (and woke up) alone almost every night for years. It felt as if I was only required for providing the image of the “perfect life” for the outside world, regardless of the reality.

The more bitter I got about my situation, the more the “Wench” mug came out. It got to the point that I drank out of it almost every day; I was trying to make a statement with it. The day the mug broke I felt like a small part of me broke with it. How was I going to keep making a joke about how I felt each day?

Next, my grenade-shaped mug with “Complaint Department” written on it broke. Really? I can’t joke about the fact that I get complained to and looked at expectantly as if I can fix everything for everyone?

Then it was my Valentine’s Day mug that I received from a student during a long-term substitute teaching position. Come on! That one made me feel important. I had made a mark on some kid’s life all those years ago. (What was her name again?)

After a while my best friend even noticed. She said, “Don’t go carrying such-and-such, it’s just going to break”. This led me to pray one of the weirdest things I’ve ever prayed: “Lord, what is up with all of my favorite coffee mugs breaking lately?”

The answer: I was idolizing my coffee mugs, not the Lord. I was identifying with the wrong things. I’m not a wench; it’s not fair to serve unappreciated, but it is (and should be) my desire to serve. I’m not a complaint department, but I should be quick to listen and slow to anger. And while maybe I did make a mark on a student’s life, I’m to store my treasures up in Heaven not on here on Earth.

Where in your life are you holding on to a false identity? What in your life does God need to break?

2 thoughts on “When All The Coffee Mugs Broke

  1. Excellent testimony! Thanks.

  2. I am getting a clearer picture about my recent move to Florida. I was freaking out about leaving a lot behind and I still have dreams about it. I am beginning to think that my identity was wrapped up in all the stuff I left behind. My identity revolved around plums and plum jam (or canning), my towels, the kids books, and a lot of other stuff. My focus and Identity was not focused around God. Yikes! It hurts to admit that. My husband, so sweet, heard God calling and talking and passed very valuable information on to me, whether he knew it or not. He still is.

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