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THE STORY OF THE TEACUP

There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery, especially teacups.

This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They were in this one shop when they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, "We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful." As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke.

"You don’t understand," it said. "I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just red clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, 'Let me alone,' but he only smiled and said, 'Not yet.'"

"Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the teacup said, "and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. 'Stop it! I’m getting dizzy?' I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, 'Not yet.'

"Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I didn’t understand why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head, 'Not yet.'

"Finally the door opened. He put me on the shelf and I began to cool. 'There, that’s better,' I said. But then he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Stop it, stop it!' I cried. 'Not yet.'

"Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, but not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, 'Not yet.' Then I knew there wasn’t any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up.

"But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later He handed me a mirror, and I couldn’t believe it was me. 'Wow. I’m beautiful.'"

"'I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you would have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I knew it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened; and you would not have had all this beautiful color. And if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you."

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