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The Bridal Cup
“Leon, I hate you.”
Leon gasped. Shocked at what I'd said, I couldn't stop my venomous words from replaying themselves. One moment I adored my husband; in the next, “I hate you” slipped out.
Though his previous comment had stung, I retaliated unfairly. We stared at each other. Did his eyes communicate disappointment or something far worse? I finally broke the stare-down-war.
According to a German legend, the daughter of a powerful nobleman once fell in love with a goldsmith. But her strict father didn't approve.
She turned down numerous opportunities to marry, which only infuriated her father. Unable to persuade his daughter to give up her passion, he threw the goldsmith into the dungeon. Yet her love continued to grow.
Finally, the nobleman devised a scheme. If the goldsmith could craft a cup that two people could drink out of at the same time without spilling a single drop, the father would concede and grant the marriage. The father was confident. This was an impossible task.
When the goldsmith's unveiled the cup, the father believed that he'd won. Rather than design a cup, the goldsmith had crafted a figurine that resembled his beloved wearing a bell-shaped skirt. In her hands, high above her head, she held a tiny basket that swiveled back and forth.
Surprising everyone, he tipped the little figurine upside down and filled the bell shaped skirt. And he proceeded to fill the second cup—the tiny basket swiveled right side up as the figurine tipped. The goldsmith and the nobleman's daughter together drank from the cups. He sipped out of the bell shaped skirt, and she out of the tiny basket. Neither spilled a drop.
The nobleman accepted defeat and released the goldsmith. And the wedding soon followed.
After telling me this story, Leon gave me a replica of the bridal cup. Though a beautiful legend, this cup reminded me of forgiveness in our marriage.
When I didn't forgive Leon, I found it difficult to be near him. We would stop holding hands and play the avoidance game. I would revert to childish behavior. A bed that once seemed too large quickly shrank. Unforgiveness, I discovered, demanded distance.
Likewise, I found that forgiveness enhanced our intimacy. If I forgave Leon, I longed for his companionship. We would hold hands, talk, and laugh.
We could only drink out of the same bridal cup if we practiced the overall life style of forgiving one another. Often we have had to go to one another and say, “I am sorry. Will you please forgive me?”
Left to ourselves, we could never fill the bridal cup with forgiveness and conduct our marriage with dignity. We would fail every single time. But God has helped us.
I wish I could say that those hate-filled words never slipped through my lips again. But I can't. Twice more, I defiantly uttered, “I hate you.”
Mortified, I wondered how I could be so cruel to the man who didn't let a day go by without saying, “I love you.”
When the storm surge subsided, I sheepishly offered, “Leon, I'm sorry. I was wrong. Will you please forgive me?”
He answered, “I love you, Pamela.”
“Forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”Ephesians 4:32 (NIV)
Note: Physical or emotional abuse requires professional help.
Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION (NIV)
Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society.
Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.
