a heart i know by heart

Beginnings & endings

My cup broke. Not just in two or three pieces, but shattered into hundreds of splintery little pieces that are sure to wind up in someone's foot. It fell on the carpet. This was my favorite cup too, for a couple of reasons. First, it was big. It could hold just the right amount of liquid to consider it to be a big cup, without being obscenly large. Did I mention it was a mug? I don't think so. It was blue, translucent glass, had a nice handle that was quite comfortable in your hand, and it also had a base to it so hot or cold, no ring was left wherever you put it. It was perfect. Well, those beer hat things with the straws, those are perfect, this was the next best thing. The only thing that originally bugged me about it that also later seemed to fit it quite well once I got to appreciate it was the word 'starbucks' was written on it in some girlish style of writing on it. I thought it to be cheesy at first, but now know it just part of it's personality. I guess you may have guessed by now, but that was the cup I had my coffee in. And me, I love my coffee. This was the cup I reached for even when there was other cups more convenient. We have tons of coffee cups, most capable of holding the amount of liquid I desire quite well, but I even went so far a few times to wash this one special even when the other cups were all clean.

Now I'm quite sure whoever you are, that you are tired of hearing about this cup, but there's more. Please continue reading. This cup was given to me as a gift by the leaders of the jr./sr. high school ministry of our church. All the people in the leadership attended (which my wife and myself were part of) a dinner together. We all talked for quite a bit, had sandwiches, had some laughs, and also were each given a gift as a thank you for our service. That's what gave this cup it's sentimental value. I thought it would serve as a reminder to me even years after as being a part of that ministry and the difference I was able to make in some kid(s) life.

Now it's trash.

It can't even be glued back together. This event wasn't that recent either. It happened maybe 2-3 months ago. Only now do I have the inspiration to write.

I have another cup. One that reminds of something else. Things I rather not remember. You see, prior to the advent of the cup I have been so enamored with, I recieved another cup as gift, a birthday gift, that I had been using as my primary beverage holder. This other cup I am even using tonight. On my 23rd birthday I was given a cup, coffee beans and coffee creamer by my mother in law. It was during a time of turmoil in my life, not to mention my wife's.

If you haven't guessed it by now, I do place a lot of sentimental value in objects. I'm a keeper. A pack rat. Just ask my wife. Losing that starbucks cup really meant a lot to me. Keeping that other cup meant a lot more. Almost immediately I made this connection between the two cups, and hasn't left. Oh, I never said how the starbucks cup broke. As dinner was ending one night, I stepped away from the table, not scooting in my chair, my daughter climbed up the chair and knocked the cup down. It just sort of happened, one minute there, and the next- not.

I don't know about you, but I feel that's just classic God.
It's just like him to be behind something like that. God is the great iconoclast. I want to remember the good and none of the pain. But He seems to say, "It's not that easy." What does He want me to know? How does He want me to react to the painful past? Why are both the cups I've talked about blue?

Check this preacher guy out. I wish it was cool for me to be a godly man that swears, but that doesn't really fit me.