Since I collect pretty teacups, I like this parable by an unknown author. The story begins in an antique shop full on wonderful, colorful things from the past, each item with a story, if only it could talk... A man and woman are shopping there for a special gift for their granddaughter's birthday. They look through old figurines, dolls, and toys; but, none of them seems to be just right. Then, the grandmother sees something in a corner cabinet - and, somehow, she realizes that this is the perfect gift.
"Ohm honey, look!", she exclaims, pointing at the item. Carefully he reaches over, picks up a beautiful teacup, and looks at its painted patterns and designs. "Oh, isn't it pretty?" the grandmother says. He nods. "I think it's about the best-looking cup I've ever seen." And, as they stand together looking at the teacup, something amazing happens! With a clear, sweet voice, the teacup begins to talk!! "Thank you for the compliment, " the cup begins, "but I wasn't always like this, you know."
Well, the grandfather, a little lit shook up from being talked to by a teacup, puts the cup back on the shelf and starts to walk away. But, his wife, who is more accustomed to odd things happening in antique shops, asks the teacup, "What are you talking about? What happened?" "Well, says the teacup, "I wasn't always beautiful. In fact, I started out as an ugly, soggy lump of clay. But one day a man with dirty, wet hands started slinging me around, pounding me on the worktable, knocking the breath out of me. I didn't like it one bit! It hurt and it made me angry." " 'Stop!' I cried. But the man with the wet hands simply said, 'Not yet.' Finally the pounding ended and I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought my ordeal was over. But it was just beginning..."
"The next thing I knew I was being stuffed into a mold - packed so tightly I couldn't see straight. 'Stop! Stop!' I cried, until I was squeezed too tight to utter another sound. Parts of me oozed out of the mold, but he scraped those away. The man seemed to know what I was thinking. He just looked at me with a patient expression on his face. And he said, 'Not yet' ".
"Finally the pressing and scraping stopped. But the next experience was even worse! I was put into the
dark. Then the temperature began to rise. The air got hotter and hotter. I was in agony. I still couldn't talk, but within myself i was yelling, 'Get me out of here!' And, strangely enough, through those thick furnace walls, I seemed to hear his voice say, 'Not yet'. Just when I was sure I would be burned to ashes, the oven began to cool. Eventually the man took me out of the furnace and released me from the confining mold. I relaxed. I looked around and realized that I liked myself better now. I was firmer. I had shape and form. This was better!"
"But then along came a short lady in an apron. She pulled out her tiny brushes and started to paint all over me. The brushes tickled and the fumes made me feel sick. 'I don't like that', I cried. 'I've had enough... Please stop.' 'Not Yet', said the short lady. Finally she finished. She picked up her brushes and moved on. But, just when I thought I was really free, the man picked me up again and put me back into that awful oven. This time was even worse because I wasn't protected by the mold! Again and again I screamed, 'Stop!' And each time the man answered through the furnace door, 'Not yet.' "
"Finally the oven cooled and the man came to open the door. By that time I was almost done in. I barely noticed when I was picked up, put back down, packed into a box, and jostled around... When I came to, a pretty lady was picking me up out of my box and placing me on this shelf next to a mirror. And, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I was amazed. No longer was I ugly, soggy, and dirty. I was shiny and clean. And I was beautiful. Could this really be me?"
"It was then", said the teacup, "that I realized there was a purpose in all that pain. You see, it took all that suffering to make me truly beautiful."
God doesn't want to throw anyone away. Not even if you feel ugly, soggy, or dirty. He didn't create us to throw us in the corner. He didn't empty Himself into Christ Jesus and go to the cross for that: Our Lord didn't suffer for that: He didn't rise from the dead for that. God does not want broken pots. His will is that we remain open to His work in our lives.
Respond to God and allow the Master Potter to do the beautiful work that He desires to do in you.
Shalom Y'all -
Twyla
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