Thursday, October 28, 2010

drinking from little cups

Directly across from my desk at work, there is a small drinking fountain. It's a typical office-type drinking fountain--the ones with the recyclable plastic barrels of water. On top of this fountain, there is a stack of small dixie cups--the kind you rinsed with as a kid after you brushed your teeth. 

I don't know why, but every time a client walks in and bends to get some water from this fountain and brings the small, small cup up to their lips to drink, 

it makes me want to cry. 

I know, I'm crazy. 

But think about it. These clients are all adults--big, strong, working adults. They come in with their respective lives on their minds--with their individual responsibilities and ailments and families and beliefs and problems. But they all look the exact same when they bend over to get that water:

They clasp the flimsy, tiny plastic cup in between their pointer and thumb fingers; I can see their big adult eyes poking out from over the little vessel. 

And each time I think--

that is not enough water to satisfy you. 

I explained this to N. one night when we were driving back from a wedding. (It's a testament to what an amazing man I married that he didn't pull the car over right there and drop me off at the closest 7-11 when I opened up to him about this....)

I remember I was crying into a bag of Doritos, sitting cross-legged in a black dress on the passenger's side when I finally realized about why this scene strikes me to deeply. It was some twenty minutes after I had initially burst into tears. And it came to me from a C.S Lewis quote that I remembered suddenly:

"like a child who wants to go on making mud pies in the slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." 

This is why I want to cry, I think. Because we are far too easily pleased. We have been given much. And we are content to sit around with little. At least I am, I think. 

May you drink of God today and be satisfied. May you drink from His vessel which knows no capacity. 


  1. oh my gosh, i love this. you're amazing. that's all.

  2. You know the craziness? I read the title of this post on twitter and came to read because I thought that it was going to be a post about communion. It was- indirectly. Tiny cups. Just enough to make us thirsty for More.

  3. Are you assuming that all of those people do not know God? How could you possibly know that?

  4. @anonymous--certainly not. I was trying to make an analogy. Sorry if it was confusing. Also, you'll notice that my final thoughts say "WE are far too easily please," meaning I include myself in my observations.