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I read a story of a woman on vacation that was shopping in the finest stores. One day she saw the most beautiful cup she had ever seen. She went in bought the cup and everyday she would take the cup out and admire it. She would even talk to the cup and say, ’’I’m glad that I found you. You’re one of the most beautiful possessions I have." On her way back home she tried to keep the cup wrapped up, but it was so beautiful to her that she took the cup out and admired its beauty.


And the story goes soon she drifted to sleep, with the cup held fast in her hand. And while she slept, she dreamed, and in her dream the cup talked back to her.

The cup said, "You know, I’m tired of you telling me how beautiful I am. I’m not what I used to be. I once was nothing but clay and dirt until one day a master craftsman came along and took me out of the mire.


I didn’t understand it when he beat me and shaped me. I didn’t understand it when he put me in an oven hotter than you can imagine. I couldn’t imagine why he would paint me and then put me back in the oven.


But you know, I learned to thank that master craftsman because if he had not molded me, I’d be shapeless and without form. If he had not put me in the oven of oppression, I’d have no structure. If he had not put that paint on me, I’d have no color. If he had not put me back in the oven to bake me again, I would fall apart." And so I thank him.


My brothers and sisters you ought to think the master craftsman. Thank God when life to seems to beat you down. Thank him when the heat seems more than you can bear. Thank him when you’re painted in pain. Think him in the oven of oppression. Thank Him.

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