My Favorite Cup

It sucks.
I'm not into abstract art and this is worse.
It looks like a 3-year-old made it.
because it is.
But I love it because my son made it.
I think about Kobe every time I drink out of it.
It would be romanticizing if I said, "He made it for me."
because I'm sure it didn't come from the heart and he wasn't even thinking about me when he made it.
It was just another art activity in preschool.
for Father's Day.
But it's my favorite cup.

I'm not the only one who feels this way.
A hat of a celebrity.
Even a signature.
A pen from a lover.
wallet from a best friend.
a scarf from a loved one who passed away.

I wonder if God feels the same way.
Even if I didn't do it for Him
he loves it because I made it.
My own hands baked that cake.
I achieved that goal with my own will.
I got that job with my own skill.

When I pray for a sports team, I know he doesn't care who wins
but maybe he'll do it
because he knows I care.
Even though he knows
that not making that flight at the airport
won't change my life
maybe he'll delay it
just to make me smile.

Even if I didn't do it for Him.

But what if I did?
How good is the art of a 3-year-old?
How good is the worship song of a 30-year-old?
Even though my service doesn't compare with Abraham or Moses
Even though my achievements don't rank with John Piper or Billy Graham
He loves the cup that I offer
because it was mine to give.

And every time He drinks out of it,
it is He who is glorified, not me.
It's His favorite cup
And he thinks of me
Because he loves me.