Lord I never asked to be a cracked cup.
We have all admired teacups, fine china luster, artistry, and
their intricate designs. Have you
ever thought about what happens to one's that are
not quite so perfect?
I know a favorite of mine has a crack on inside corner. Most the
crack is hidden from eyes, unless
someone was looking for it. It's rose design, a little
faded from years of service. If it were to be bought or sold for
antique value, it wouldn't bringmuch because of its imperfection. Yet,
the memories of secrets shared over tea with this cup are priceless.
This simple cup, flawed as it may be, has a message
uniquely its own. Beauty is not dependent on what the
eye can see; it's a matter of heart. What is
stored in a treasure in cupboard of heart can never be bought or
sold for any price.
I went to a doctor one time that told me I was not whole. Infact, I was
broken. I had to learn to live with missing parts that could never be
added. When God created me, he left out most important part of my
reproductive system, my ovaries. I remember how I felt
that day. Is there no hope for a normal life I would
ask myself? I would cry. No one will ever understand
my pain. My cracks were secret, hidden deep inside,
except for keloid scar on my neck. A cracked
teacup that best describes what I am.
I began to remember lesson of teacup. God I said, "I never asked
to be a cracked cup. Please tell me why?" I never thought that taking
care of a diseased thyroid would result in such an ugly scar. Even after
three plastic surgeries. I wondered would
any man ever love me, imperfect vessel that I am?
"Ok God, I am a cracked cup now what?"