The Sloshy Tablecloth

One of my favorite authors, Max Lucado, gives the cultural background on the old Christian saying: "my cup runneth over." In ancient tradition, if you were a guest in someone's home for a banquet, a cup left empty was a subtle hint that it was time for you to go home as the host was finding you tiresome. A full cup meant stick around a while longer. But a cup filled to overflowing--to the point where it spilled over and drenched the table around you--was the highest sign of favor from the host.

Last fall, I felt a call from God. Immediately upon my committing myself to that call, I began having "cup running over" experiences. The spills I made warranted groups of people cleaning up after me. Over and over through the fall and into the winter, I'd have those moments; and I'd shake my head and say "Spilling grace again." Even others were affected...for instance, my husband spilled my coffee all over himself when he tried to thoughtfully doctor it for me while I was in the bathroom at a fast food restaurant. Finally, somewhere around Christmastime, I came across the book with Lucado's historical "explanation" for the spills: God is happy with my offering of myself. I am welcome at His table.

Lately, though, has been a dry spell. Not so many spills. And, now there is the question of whether my health will fail me before I can even make good on that offering. Not that I have a problem with being "let off the hook" but the sense that He had this course in front of me has been so strong. My belief is that the commission has not changed; if anything my comprehension of it will.

Coming from the doctor's office today, I sat in a long line at the drive-through for a fast-food restaurant. That long line gave me the opportunity to lay these thoughts out for God. My faith's not shaken; but I realize clarification may be coming as to His plan. I told Him I was fine with that...I know His way of doing things is often not perceptible as wisdom until it is looked at in hindsight. I've experienced that many times. Why would I doubt the infallibility of His messages now?

As I got to the window finally, the little gal handed out my bag of tacos. Then she picked up my drink to hand it out too...and spilled it all over the place! She didn't even get mad. She just laughed and made me another one, like the whole thing just made her down-right happy. And well it should have. It sure made me happy!