So I’m thinking of a little boy. Sitting in a small house, early in the morning, beside a fire. As he sits, his mother brings his breakfast and begins to pour his drink, into a small, wooden cup…and he begins to smile. His smile, comes not from the drink, but of his mother’s love and the wooden cup. The cup was handmade, by Joseph, his father, who is a poor man and carpenter. It was made from a piece of scrap wood, but carved and polished with great pride, love and adoration, for the boy.
As the boy grew, he always used that cup. He carried it with him to school and used it, because it was made, just for him. With some age, however, the other kids began to pick on him because it was, after all, a child’s cup. But it was made, just for him. None of his friends would use it, though he offered; they all said it just didn’t fit their mouth…”you’re the only one who can drink from that silly cup”, they would say.
Many years later, in a garden, as a grown man, the boy prayed. He was very anxious and worried and frightened. He thought about his mother, father and friends as he prayed. With tears flowing down his face, he held that little wooden cup in his hand, thinking of how he wanted to remain with his mother and father.
But he was praying to his father in heaven, this time…pleading with him, to take away THIS CUP, which was made, just for him. This cup, only he could drink from, it only fit his lips…and he recalled the children from school, making fun of him. He thought how cruel the world was, but he loved everyone. He loved them, but he prayed, three times…PLEASE, take this cup from me!! If it is possible, PLEASE!!
After many, many tears and much prayer, his heart, filled with such great love for mankind, gave in. Father, I know it is right to ask, but nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done. This cup should not and cannot be taken away. For it was made, just for me, out of love and only I can drink from it. Fill my cup, Lord, that I may drink from it.
And the little boy set down the wooden cup, walked away from it, trading it for the one he would now have to drink from. It was quite full and it’s taste was bittersweet. But he drank it all. He finished the entire cup and said, “It is finished” as he closed his eyes, thinking of his little, wooden cup.