Can you drink the cup before you? I’m guessing the short answer to that question is to say it depends on what’s in it. Some “drinks” are more welcome than others. What if it held a cup of challenge, change or suffering? What then?
We all have a time, place and circumstance we would rather not face. Everything within recoils at the thought of all we need to go through. Surely anything is better than this?
Just think how alone we can feel when dealing with difficult decisions and painful problems. These things tend to keep us up at night, sleep-elusive, our minds churning restlessly.
Heavy emotional and physical burdens drag us down to the depths. Few can fully comprehend how daunting they seem. There is something so isolating in wrestling with a worry beyond the ordinary.
If we multiply our concerns exponentially, then we might have an inkling of the enormity of the task awaiting the Son of God on the night before facing the cross, and gain some understanding of why the anguished forethought caused Him to sweat drops of blood.
Can Jesus drink this cup before Him? Is there no other way by which mankind can be saved, except by complete and willing surrender to His Father’s will, leading to an excruciatingly painful death and a heavier burden still of bearing all the world’s sin on Himself?
Because Jesus willingly took the cup of sin and suffering on our behalf, we can learn to cope with whatever life may throw at us. Maybe yours is a cup of shame, hostility, cruelty or indifference. He’s been there too.
“When God allows others to think less of you, to judge you, to challenge you, to malign you, he is bringing you into rare but intimate country—the sufferings of Christ” ~ Gary L Thomas, ‘Simply Sacred: Daily Readings’
[bctt tweet=”With Jesus’ help, we can learn to cope with whatever life may throw at us”]
I wrote the poem below a while ago, during a season of great strain and stress. My hope and prayer is that you might see Jesus as our Cup Bearer and life sharer in every situation we face.
Drink the cup
I hold a cup in shaky hands,
brimful of tears and sorrow
I lift it up to drink and sup
then set aside to have tomorrow
I cannot willingly receive
this pain-filled cup I bear
unless I learn to bend the knee
and offer it up in prayer
I want so much to hold again
a cup full of joy and gladness,
not these contents of acid rain
caught in days of grief and sadness
I sense a Hand hover over mine
I see it bears deep wounds and scars
Etched within the echelons of time
my risen Saviour remains cross-marred
He wraps his fingers tenderly
around my own, holding cup and heart
We lift as one, my Lord and me
and swallow whole in every part
Our human capacity to swallow a cup of sorrow, sickness, grief or pain is pretty limited. We tend to fight it to the last drop. Though as people of the cross, we have resources beyond ourselves.
[bctt tweet=”We can learn to survive and thrive with God on our side.”]
With Jesus accompanying us, offering His unlimited supernatural power and strength, we discover we can taste a bitter cup, slowly drink its contents to the dregs, learn to thrive and survive with God on our side.