My Cup, My Testimony

I shuffled into the room, head down, and lips parched. I approached the table and warily glanced at Him for a moment before hanging my head again. His blazing eyes pierced through me, full of knowledge, anger, and kindness. He held a cup with my name on it. 

I couldn’t look anymore. I licked my lips. I was so thirsty. I wanted Him to give me something to drink, but not that cup. I saw what was in it and dreaded what was coming.

There, in a crystal-clear cup with my name on it, simmered God’s anger, stirred, steaming, and frothy on top. In just a moment, God would require me to drink a full cup of His anger from start to finish-even down to the bitter dregs at the bottom of the cup.

As I stretched out a hand to take the cup, my life changed forever. Jesus stepped into the room and approached the table, standing alongside of me. I furtively glanced at Him and saw Him reach for my cup. For a moment, They both held the cup. As God lovingly gazed at His Son, He released my cup and turned that loving look on me. I stared back in confusion. Didn’t He know who I was? I was guilty of high treason! I was a sinner!

I stood in shock as Jesus drank my cup of God’s wrath. That was intended for me, but He drank those bitter dregs instead! I was so grateful that it was gone! My heart warmed at the memory of what Jesus had done for me. 

God took out another cup and filled it to overflowing. He held it out to me, gazing at me with those loving eyes. I took it and looked at the beautiful, sparkling beverage.  It tasted incredibly sweet and smooth. I drank and it quenched my thirst better than water ever did. I licked my lips again and smiled in satisfaction as I strode out of the room.

What was in the second cup? God’s blessings. I drank out of that cup for the rest of my life.


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