At your table you will find a tea cup and teaspoon at each seat and a bowl of white and brown sugar cubes in the center of the table with a tiny, delicate pair of tongs. Your server will ask which tea you want and offer suggestions (which is a relief, because 260 teas is a lot to choose from). Once you’ve decided, they will make your tea and bring it to you piping hot in a small teapot that holds about three tea cups-worth of your selection of tea, along with your choice of milk or cream (I always choose cream).
Every time, it’s a beautiful moment when you pour your tea from your own little teapot into your dainty tea cup, add a sugar cube (or two… or three… I won’t judge) and a spot of cream, then take your first sip. Ah. This is what tea is supposed to be like.
Now I’ll be the first to admit, I can be a bit clumsy. But, oh, when I’m holding that tea cup I try to use gentle, yet strong hands so I won’t spill. I’m holding precious contents, after all. I do love my tea, and I sure don’t want to break the beautiful tea cup. I want to make sure it’s well taken care of and safe.
I, too, am a tea cup. I’m beautifully made. I’m fragile and can be broken. I need to be washed clean, especially on the inside when I get nasty. (nasTEA? Okay, I'll stop now.)
Thankfully, I’m in very capable hands. The Lord’s hands are far more sturdy and stable and dependable than my own. He loves me and He cares for me and He holds me in gentle, loving hands. It is for this reason I can trust Him. Should I fall (away from him) and be broken (by sin), my Maker picks me back up and glues me back together. Sure, you can still see the spots where I was broken, but that is just proof of my testimony. I once was in pieces, but my Savior came to my rescue and restored me.
And now I rest, in His sure hands, a dainty little teacup, with quite a few cracks He’s repaired, overflowing with His joy and Spirit.
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