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The Cup
(Translated from an article received on the Internet. Author anonymous)
The story is told of a couple in England who liked to wander through the shops in downtown London, One day, as they entered a quaint little store, they noticed a beautiful cup, "May I see that cup?" asked the lady, "I have never seen anything so delicate!" In the lady's hands, the cup began to tell its story:
I wasn't always the cup you are holding. A long time ago, I was only a lump of clay. But a potter took me in his hands and began to give me shape. He worked and worked. I thought he'd never stop! I yelled at him, "Please" just leave me alone!" But he only smiled at me and said, "Hang on a little longer; it isn't time yet." He then put me in an oven. I'd never been so hot! I knocked on the oven's door, and through the window I coulld read his lips saying, "Hang on a little longer; it isn't time yet."
When he finally opened the door, my potter placed me on a shelf. But just as I had cooled off, he began to sand me. I don't know how he didn't finish me off! He kept turning me, looking at me up and down. Finally, he began to meticulously apply color after color of paint. I felt like I was asphyxiating! "Please, leave me alone!" I kept yelling at my potter, but he only said, "Hang on a little longer; it isn't time yet."
When I thought it had all finally ended, he stuck me in another oven, much hotter than the first! Now I really thought he was going to end with my life! I begged and I pleaded with him to take me out, asking if he had gone mad. I screamed. I cried. But my potter only said, "Hang on a little longer; it isn't time yet."
I wondered if there was hope, if I would be able to survive such treatment. But, for some reason, I was able to withstand it all. It was then that the door opened and my potter lovingly picked me up and took me to a very different place. It was beautiful! There, all the cups were amazing, true works of art
It wasn't long before I discovered that I was in a fine store. And before me was a mirror. I couldn't believe it. I was one of those wonders! That couldn't be me!
My potter then said to me, "I know you suffered as you were being molded by my hands, but look now at your beautiful shape. I know you endured terrible heat, but look now at your solid consistency I know you suffered with the sanding and buffing, but look now how delicate and graceful you are. And I know the paint made you nauseous, but look now at your beauty. What if I had left you as you were?
"You are now a finished work---the one I envisioned as I began to give you shape."
Just like that cup, you too are a work in progress in the hands of the Master Potter. Entrust yourself to His loving process even when you do not understand why He allows your suffering. And when you are tempted to ask how long, remember-there is a purpose.,. and a vision. Hang on a little longer; it isn't time yet. But your Potter is carefully watching, and you will not be there a minute longer than necessary, Before you know it, you'll be a finished work-the one He envisioned as He began to give you shape.
Maria Lund