Getting to Know Me

I read your blogs. I enjoy photos - looking at them, knowing what you look like, seeing how your houses are done.

But I have a rule on my blog - no personal photos. There are reasons for that rule. It means, though, that you don't get to know me. No picture to go with the words.

I decided to fix that today. You might not get to see my face, but you CAN see my coffee cups. If you came over, you might get to drink from one of them. I say might because I am pretty protective of these three. There are enough cups in my house that I don't have to share. But, if you are ever here, and I hand you one of these to drink out of, know you are special to me! Even my kids have learned that mommy doesn't like people to use her cups. (I am not mean - I gave them all their own special cups!)

I do let some people drink from these. But if I do, it is an equivalent to giving them a hug.

So - here is my newest one:


I bought this one second hand. I didn't need another cup. I saw it one day and admired it - one of four. Daydreamed how nice it would be to own four of them. That daydreamed clashed with my goal of decluttering. So I resisted. But... I am an addict... I guess... the cup kept reminding me it existed every time I went by the store. Finally, I gave in, and went to buy them. There were no longer four left, just this one.

It belongs to me now. Why am I so attracted to this cup? It is big, solid, dependable. It looks like blue jeans - and I love blue jeans... not always allowed to wear them depending where we are, but there is nothing like a comfortable pair of blue jeans. Then it has this beautiful design on the rim. I love beauty. The design is feel-able, raised. I am a tactile person. If it was not socially un-allowed, I would run my hands over faces to feel. I feel things - soft laundry, rough tree bark, smooth stones. I love this cup that lets my fingers feel the design even when I am not looking at it.

This cup reminds me of comfort. A new stage in my life. One I hope stays. But it is my comfort cup.

Then there is this one:
This one was a gift. Given by someone who believed in me. Who gave me liberty to go another way on a path they thought was good in order to bring hope to other women. It reminds me that I have value and the ability both to hang on and to minister to others. It reminds me of my worth.

It is also big, comfortable, solid. (Seeing a pattern? I crave solid comfort, stability.)

This cup reminds me of hope - in a corporate way. There is hope for me, hope to pass on, hope to hang on to.

Then there is this one:


All of my kids have special cups that I bought for them when they were babies. They all have some picture on the inside of the cup, too, and all are of finer china. The only problem was that after having one beautiful baby girl after I had not only lost one baby girl, but been told I would have no more babies, I just could not find a cup that expressed my delight in her enough.

When she was six, she finally asked me when I am going to get her "her cup". Ah... yes... how to tell you that there is no way to find one to match who you are?

So I went shopping. I looked and looked, and finally settled on one. It is like a shadow compared to her delightfulnes, so I got one in black, white, and greys - elegant, fun, but a shadow.

But while shopping....(don't too many stoies start like this?)..... I saw this one. I tried to walk away. I do try! But... I loved this one. Tulips. Finer china than my comfort mugs. A tulip inside. Pinks. Spring time. Hope.

Now I am a bit partial to tulips. I have some growing right beside my door (no, not now!) that are exactly that color - a gift from friends. So I bought this one. It reminds me of hope, yes, but it also reminds me that I am loved. There have been times this last year that it was hard to drink from this cup and other times that I clung to it for the sheer reminder it gave me.

It is finer china. It feels delicate, breakable, worth taking care of, needing gentleness. I hold it and remember that I am not common, but of value. Personally of value. Loved personally, individually, with gentleness. Given hope - hope just for me.

It reminds me of the same things as my orange one - hope - but in a much more personal way.

It also reminds me that I am loved just because, actually in spite of... and that gives me joy.

This is the cup I am least likely to share if you come to my house. It's mine.

Those are my cups. The "face" on my blog. Drop in for coffee sometime!