I'm not much of an artist, but in the spirit of overcoming the idea that everything I do must be done well, I've forced myself to do art. So I draw, paint, and color lopsided creations and fully accept them how they are. As I was drawing my cup of tears this morning (the theme for the week for the Cup of Our Life), I noticed something new about my cup. The cup I'm using is a wooden chalice-like cup I picked up in Iquitos, Peru—a blood-wood, it is called—kind of like a reddish mahogany. I guess because I was drawing it and paying attention to its lines, I noticed that one side of my cup is light with golden red tones, and one side is dark with lots of darker shading. I know so little about art I often am frustrated trying to figure out how one draws light—it’s much easier to draw darkness.

Last week, our reflections for the study were on the chipped cup—the idea of accepting our flaws and weaknesses. I’m a recovering perfectionist. Naming my flaws and weaknesses is, well, a strong-point for me. Accepting them is not. Which is huge theologically because it makes it hard for me to accept grace as well. So I didn’t have a lot to write last week—though plenty on which to reflect.

I appreciate the light and dark of my cup—and the metaphor it contains.