Finding Balance in Writing & Life: When Your Cup is Empty

I knocked over my cup. Tea flowed out of the mug, onto the floor, and raced toward any crack or crevice it could find. I picked up the cup to find it empty, and my shoulders sagged.

I felt like that cup.

Empty. With nothing left to offer.

You see, I spent a week in June at my youngest son’s hospital bedside praying fervently for God to spare his life. A seemingly simple diagnosis of bronchitis led into pneumonia only to have his body attacked by an unknown virus that wrecked havoc on his organs, spiraling him near death.

Oh, and by the way, I had a book deadline that week.