Last night we gathered to commemorate our 3rd anniversary.
So much has happened since the day God put the idea of a widow's group in my head. It took 9 months from when the idea first hit me until our first meeting. Just like giving birth to a baby.
I thought it might be nice to post just what happened the night of our premiere meeting.
February 3, 2005 was finally here. The day of the first, First Tea @Five meeting, and from the moment I got up, my stomach was in knots. Thankfully, God had provided us with good weather so no one had to worry about driving in snow and ice.
The meeting was to start precisely at 7:00 p.m. Marcia, Barb, Connie, Marg, and I were there early. We just did not know what to expect. We only knew of one woman who after reading the article in the paper had called to say she was coming. However, we kept our fingers crossed. I prayed all day for a large turnout. “Oh Lord, I begged, please let this be a success. Let us be the organization you want.”
The large, open, rectangle room was void of any decorations, but Marcia had arrived bearing small jars decorated with ribbons and votive candles that we lighted and scattered around the room. As we worked, Marcia explained the agenda for the evening. First, she would introduce the core group and explain how we had come together and the steps we took to form this group, and after I would explain the meaning behind the name of the group and tell about God’s inspiration for its design. Next, we would be going around the room and each woman would introduce herself and tell something about the teacup she had brought with her that night. Following the introductions, we would introduce the speaker for the evening, and when she finished we would have our tea and snack while we dimmed the lights, and listened to the story of the Potter and the Clay from a teacups point of view. It seemed like a great plan.
The others had done a wonderful job of getting everything together. They had wrapped individual teacups and saucers in cellophane and tied them with a ribbon. If any woman came without a cup of her own, we would hand her one of these. Barb had found teapot shaped teabag holders at the dollar store, and Connie had found little tea spoons with a teapot on the handle. One of each was included with the cups. I was so impressed with all their creativity and I felt bad that I hadn’t had more time to help. They also gathered special door prizes with tea themes, and Marcia had come up with some unique prizes as well.
A few minutes before seven o’clock, a woman walked into the hall with a crocheted teacup holder. “Is this the widows group?” she asked. We told her yes and asked her to please come in and find her favorite seat. As she moved to one of the tables she went on to say. “I’m a widow but I’ve a man friend, but I just had to come and see what this was all about.” The woman’s name was Betty.
After Betty, a woman named May arrived. I could tell right away from the look on her face that she was far away from her comfort zone. I went over, picked up my own teacup, and walked beside her to the table she chose. I put my cup down across from hers.
After a few more minutes, a woman named Theresa, walked in. We had been expecting Theresa, but we were happy to see that she had brought two other widows along, Joanne and Sally.
I kept looking at the door waiting for more. Finally, at approximately 7:10 p.m. we faced the fact that no one else was coming, and Marcia began the program. I could feel the disappointment building in me, but God reminded me I needed to be thankful for what we had, and I bowed my head and offered a quick prayer of thanksgiving for those women. “Thank you for bringing these women tonight Lord. Forgive me for being disappointed in the turn out. I know this is your plan and you may have a reason that others didn’t come, but if we did something wrong or if we didn’t do enough please show us where we failed. Help us to know your will.” Just as I finished praying, I heard my name and knew it was time to try to do justice to the awesome task of explaining God’s hand in this wonderful new group.
When I had finished talking or rather rambling, it was time for my favorite part of the night, the sharing! Each woman told her name, how long she had been widowed and about her teacup. The newest widow was May. She had only been a widow for 5 months. The tears streamed down her face as she tried to talk. “I guess I shouldn’t have come tonight”, she said. “I guess it’s too soon for me.” Marg, who had been sitting next to me, quickly got up and went over and hugged May and said “No Dear, this is exactly why you should be here tonight.” I thought I had detected an accent when I heard May speak, and sure enough, we found out she was from Scotland. Her sons both lived in other states and she had no other relatives near by. I was glad we were here for her. Each woman’s story was unique, as was each teacup.
Marcia began giving out prizes for the oldest teacup, and which teacup had traveled the furthest etc, and the prizes were coupons that entitled the bearer to such things as being able to cut in the bathroom line at a future outing, etc. Next, we pulled a name out of a hat for the door prize. The winner was Theresa who had been widowed twice, losing both husbands suddenly, one to a train accident in which she was severely injured herself, and the other to a heart attack. I had known Theresa ever since our children were first in school, but hearing her story all over again tugged at my heart and I wondered how she ever managed to go through the death of a spouse a second time.
Theresa’s prize was a teapot with various flavors of tea included. When they called her name as the recipient, she took the gift, and went directly over to May. She squeezed Mays shoulders in a big hug and said, “As the newest widow in this group I want you to have this teapot as a reminder that you are never alone. We’re here if you ever need us.” “YES!” I said under my breath as I doubled my fist and drew my elbow towards my ribs. I couldn’t help but think that God was doing the same and saying “Yes, this is just what I had in mind!”
The next thing on the agenda was a woman named Trudy. She was from the local travel agency and she came to tell us about all the wonderful trips we could take. They all sounded fun, but I wasn’t sure whether the cost was an issue or whether there were just no other travelers in the group, but I seemed way more enthused than anyone else. They were all looking a little shy and reserved. Imagine that! Me in a group of quiet women? Lord help them! Next, it was time to ascertain the interests of everyone the group. Marcia passed out a strip of stick-on-stars to everyone, and we began a brain storming activity for suggestions of things we like to do, and free or little cost day trips we could take. When all the suggestions had been written on the giant, “post it” pad we hung them on the wall and then Marcia instructed us to take our stars and mark the things that interested us the most. We could use one or all of our stars on any given item.
The activity livened up the group and you could hear laughter and a camaraderie beginning. Finally, as we finished placing our stars, we helped ourselves to tea and refreshments. When we were all seated, the lights were dimmed, and Marcia began the reflection:
THE TEACUP
There was a couple that used to go England to shop in a beautiful antique store. This trip was to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked, "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful." As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand." it said, "I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, don’t do that. I don't like it!" "Let me alone," but he only smiled, and gently said, "Not yet!!"
"Then, WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it! I'm getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!" I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, quietly, "Not yet." He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then . . . then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, "Not yet."
When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought. But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. "Oh, please, Stop it, Stop it!!" I cried. He only shook his head and said. "Not yet!''
Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering, "What's he going to do to me next?" An hour later he handed me a mirror and said, "Look at yourself." And I did. I said, 'That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!"'
Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember this." Then he said, "I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."
The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will. So, when life seems hard, and you are being pounded, patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; and when life seems to "stink," try this: Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your new teacup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the Potter.
Author Unknown ~ ~ ~ ~
Although I had read the story over at least a dozen times, tonight, it seemed to take on a special meaning of its own.
I looked around the room and watched as the women listened intently, each head slightly nodding as they identified with the trials of the tiny teacup. Closing my eyes I breathed in deeply and felt the Potters hand as he began the job of turning ten, hard, yet pliant, lumps of clay into his unique, but equally beautiful masterpieces; teacups, that when finished with all the Masters refining would reflect his image to all other kindred sisters.
And there you have it ,,,, our meager beginnings. 9 of the 10 original members have remainded faithful. The 10th member has begun a sister chapter in a town 60 miles to the south. We have opened up our meetings and social events to each other and it is truly amazing to see Gods hand still at work. Last night we welcomed two new widows which brings us to 46 members.
