The
                  Teacup
                  There
                  was a couple who used to go to England to shop in a beautiful
                  antique store. This
                  trip was to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They
                  both liked antiques and pottery, especially tea-cups.
                  Spotting
                  an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that?  
                  We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."
                  As
                  the lady handed it to them, suddenly the tea-cup spoke to the
                  couple.
                  "You
                  don't understand." It said, "I have not always been
                  a tea-cup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red
                  clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me
                  over and over and I yelled out, "Don't do that. I don't
                  like it!   Let me alone!", but he only smiled,
                  and gently said; "Not yet
                  Then.
                  WHAM!  I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly
                  I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it! I'm
                  getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!", I screamed. But
                  the master only nodded and said quietly  "Not
                  yet."
                  He
                  spun, poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit
                  himself and then......he put me in the oven.
                  I
                  never felt such heat!   I yelled and knocked and
                  pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!"
                  I
                  could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as
                  he shook his head from side to side and again said, "Not
                  yet".
                  When
                  I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened.
                  He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began
                  to cool. Oh, that felt so good.
                  Ah,
                  this is much better, I thought. But, after I cooled he picked
                  me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were
                  horrible. I thought I would gag. Oh, please; "Stop it,
                  Stop it!!" I cried. He only shook his head and said
                  "Not yet".
                  Then
                  suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not
                  like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I
                  would suffocate! I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I
                  cried.  I was convinced I would never make it.  
                  I was ready to give up.  
                  Just
                  then the door opened and he took me out and again placed
                  me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited------- and waited,
                  wondering what's he going to do to me next? An hour later
                  he handed me a mirror and said "Look at yourself."
                  And I did.
                  I
                  said, "That's not me, that couldn't be me. It's
                  beautiful! I'm beautiful."
                  Quietly
                  he spoke "I want you to remember", then he said,
                  "I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but
                  had I just left you alone, you'd 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 know 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. 
                  
                  You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put
                  you back in the second oven, you wouldn't have survived for
                  long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a
                  finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first
                  began with you.
                  The
                  moral of this story is this........
                  God
                  knows what He's doing with each of us. He is the potter, and
                  we are His clay. He will mould us and make us, and expose us
                  to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may
                  be made into a flawless piece of work, to fulfill His good,
                  pleasing and perfect will.
                  So
                  when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and
                  pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be
                  spinning out of control;  when you feel like you are
                  in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to
                  "stink", try this.....
                  ......Brew
                  a cup of your favorite tea, in your prettiest tea cup, sit
                  down and think on this story and then
                  have a little talk with the Potter.