The Cup

I am Granddaddy’s girl. Even though he is not here anymore, I am still Granddaddy’s girl. I use to follow Him around everywhere. One of the things I have picked up on was his love, or need of coffee. I noticed that he used the same coffee cup everyday. It was a short, thick glass, 70’s style pee yellow mug. Anytime you went to my grandparents’ house you knew you could have your choice of cup, but no one was to touch Granddaddy’s cup. He loved his cup. He also had a very tough, reliable cup. Sometimes he would leave it outside in the rain, or drop it in the dirt, or let it roll around in the floorboard of his truck. But he always had it every morning ready to refill and use again.

I want my life to be like that cup. Minus the 70’s pee yellow, it was made for a purpose and it served its purpose well. Even though my Heavenly Father may let me see the outside sometimes with the rain, roll around in the floorboard, and occasional lets me feel pain as if I was dropped (but I know I’m not). But I have a purpose. I am loved. Every morning He seeks me and I Him; to fill me up and start our day off together. I want to serve Him as the best cup ever. So when I start my day I offer myself as a servant. I go to work and my routine is simple. I put away my stuff and pour me some coffee in a short, thick glassed, 70’s style pee yellow coffee cup.

Opinions

Don't you just love it when everyone offers you an opinion. Sometimes we ask for it and sometimes we don't; but there is always an abundance of opinions. I personally don't care about those said opinionated people. I amuse them by thanking them for their unwarranted advice, and immediately dismiss it when I walk away. Think of the starving children in China. Your time and efforts will be more appreciated by those malnourished little people. I will go even further into dislike by saying: "Your opinion doesn't matter." There I said it. You can now go deal with this reality.

Moral of this story: (Now really, haven't we learned anything.)