The Healing Powers of Homemade Tea

These last few days, I have been on this mental teeter-totter.  Fighting with this restlessness between what I want to do versus what I should do and insecure of any decision made.  If mom was home she would make me a cup of tea.  A cup of tea is the best medicine for any ailment, at least it is for me.  My mom usually makes it for me and it’s always made with so much love that as I drink the herbal liquid I drink her healing love, and there’s nothing that a mother’s love can’t heal…  My nephew and I have been reading the first two Harry Potter novels and the first book shows how a mother’s love is so powerful that it can defeat evil.  The antagonist of the novel, the “one who shall not be named,” is pure evil and the touch of Harry Potter’s skin destroys him simply because Harry Potter has been protected with the goodness and purity of a mother’s love.  I almost laughed at how easily this fictional character is destroyed.  Now, as mom is out of town (my best friend, my confidant, my healer) I realize how ingenious the Harry Potter plot is because love is truly more powerful than the darkest evil- as Christians we hear this message repeatedly.  Yet, when I read the ending (sorry for spoiling book one) I almost let out a sarcastic, “Oh, come on,” because I thought this love charm protection spell was too cheesy.  This comes from a girl who loves cheesy!  Days later as I find myself missing my mommy I am beginning to doubt my hard judgement over the ending in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Yesterday, I made myself some tea because I really needed the comforting and though I boiled the organic herbs myself, as I sipped (savoring every taste) I felt covered in my mother’s love.  I flew back to a day when I was ten-years-old and terribly sick.  She picked me up on her lap even though I was too big to fit in her embrace, my feet no longer dangling and even though I felt too big to be in her arms I didn’t move.  She told me a story (my mother is a great story teller).  As she was telling me the tale a package arrived in the mail, it was a doll almost my size that she had ordered from some catalog.  I must have been really sick because I didn’t run to the doll I just sat content on her lap.  I don’t remember if there was tea, but I am certain there was.  There’s always tea with mom - it’s her spoonful of sugar.  And no matter what illness I might suffer, my mom knows what type of tea to make me and like a band aid on a boo-boo it’s instantly better.

Last night I cut a few leaves from our lime tree, washed them and stuck them inside my teapot filled with water.  

I waited until it came to a boil, added a little honey and enjoyed a cup while I sat in silence with my cute dog at my feet.  With each sip my heart filled with joy and my mind began to calm the infiltration of back-and-forth thoughts.  Racing thoughts are an occasional challenge we bipolar sufferers experience.  Nonetheless, by the last sip I had found my peace and my mind and spirit were no longer troubled.  My mami and her teas to the rescue once again (smile).