The cup of Life

I've been caught up, lately, in the whole concept of the cup we each are given. Recently had a look (as a church) at the parable of the vineyard owner who went out to hire people to work in his vineyard. The first ones were hired early in the day and agreed to work for a denarius, and then later, as the day progressed, others were hired, and at the end of the day, they were all paid a denarius for their labours. You can imagine how disgruntled the early workers were.
I thought about that - how much we try to be 'fair' and how strongly our human nature labours to be right and just, and yet how little that has to do with the Kingdom of God. I thought I'd illustrate it by bringing to the meeting a basket of cups, all filled with a differing assortment of things: dried up pasta to represent sorrow and suffering, sour worm sweets to represent the bitter/sweet pleasures of life, fruit to represent health, and deflated balloons to represent illhealth. It was an interesting discussion point. We who are believers ask to know our Lord better, and yet when he gives us some of a share in his sufferings, we can't understand it. I am always gripped when I see someone who has had a larger portion of sorrow in this life, and yet who has been humbled by it, and has found a depth of compassion and mercy out of it, for others.
There is so much out there that people believe is 'christian' or the 'christian way' and often it is a self-righteousness piousness which has nothing to do with the Lord at all. He knew how to lose. He knew how to patiently bear suffering and loss without comment. Although he didn't ask for suffering ("Father, let this cup pass from me, but not my will but thine be done") he bore it for us. And he LET'S us share some of HIS suffering so that we can partake more fully in his life. What an honour. And oh, how I hope I remember that when next I feel the press of inexplicable crushing upon me. In fact, I have to say, that sometimes out of the sorrows I've been begrudgingly accepting of, I've been able to find joy which goes deeper than just happiness.
I miss the people who were once in my life, but are no longer. I think as you get older there's a quiet grief (that sits comfortably beside the peace and joy), which is for the loss of people or situations in the past, and it's something you just have to bear. My hope is that one future day, those separations now, will be joined into some wonderful wholeness and great GAIN.
So, thanks for the cup I have been given, which I will drink down to its dregs.