Subscription Lists

We always use paper. Anytime my twin sister Michelle and I get together, we use disposable dinnerware. It's so much easier to throw nine cups and nine plates away (one for each of our children) than it is to wash them. The dishwasher is never empty enough for that.

A couple of weeks ago at Michelle's house, it was my turn to get dinner on the table. I had everything ready but the drinks. Ugh. Filling nine cups with ice and water is a serious project, especially at Michelle's house. She has a water and ice dispenser on the front of her refrigerator. You press the cup on the cup-shaped bar that dispenses ice, and ice comes out. That part is easy. The hard part on her fridge is the water dispenser.

At some point, some child, probably one of mine, decided to hang on the water dispenser bar and broke it off. Now the only thing left to push to get water is this tiny knob at the back that is very hard to push. It's especially hard to push with a disposable plastic cup because the cup crumples in your hand when you try. So, you have to push this pointy thing that is very hard to push with one hand, and hold the cup with the other hand. It's actually quite a physical feat to fit both of your hands and a plastic cup in the 3-inch space in front of the water dispenser bar that is no longer there. The water feels like it trickles out because it hurts your finger so much to push on the little, tiny, pointy knob.

I counted that day, and it took about 70 seconds to fill my first small, red plastic cup. Only 8 more to go. Cup number 2: push barb-like bar with right hand, hold cup with left hand, try to take your mind off the fact that your finger is developing a deep bruise, count to 70. Seven cups to go. Cup number 3: push continuously-shrinking spike with left hand (because your right hand hurts so badly), hold cup with right hand in awkward way, count to 70. Uuuuh! I didn't think I could do SEVEN more cups. Maybe the kids wouldn't mind sharing. Three kids to a cup sounded good to me.

And then little Asfaw walked across my mind. She's the curly-headed girl that our family supports in Ethiopia. In a card we got from her last year, she listed how she fills her time. Third on her list was "getting water for my mom." Hmmm.

I pictured Asfaw standing in Michelle's kitchen, filling red plastic cups with water. It did NOT seem reasonable that she would be thinking what I was thinking. She would probably have huge, bug-eyes at such a site—a big, white box that put out ice and water through the door-- right in her house? And cold, clear water at that! No walking a mile to the town well, carrying every bit of water your family ever used? Did you know water weighs 8 pounds a gallon?

All the sudden my finger didn't seem so sore. 70 seconds didn't seem that long. Nine cups didn't seem like so much. Humility is what it seemed like. The biting words of James 9:9-10 came to mind:
"The brother in humble circumstances ought to take pride in his high position. But the one who is rich should take pride in his low position, because he will pass away like a wild flower."

Next time I make a trip to the waterhole, I will walk with a low head, thanking God the whole way for what he has done for me, and for the cup of water I drink, no matter how hard (or easy) it was to fill.

"Voice of Inspiration" from Andy Castro

Mangled Mind-Psalms 91:15