The ‘I’m Younger Than That Now’ 10-Day Catch Experience is almost here! Join us for a transformative journey that reconnects you with your authentic self and the core values of the Jesus Movement. Sign up today to be part of something meaningful: https://bit.ly/ImYoungerThanThatNowPDF

As a creature of habit, I drink my coffee at home out of one of two different cups.  Early in the morning during the week I use my Starbucks stainless steel mug with the snap-on lid and black handle. It has an air chamber built into it that keeps the coffee hot almost as well as a thermos would. It’s dented in a couple places from the numbers of times it has been dropped and the black handle is beginning to get a little sticky from going through the dishwasher almost every day for at least three years. I am resolved, however, to keeping this mug in service and will not easily part with something that has become, in essence, an addition to my hand.

On those lazier Saturday and Sunday mornings, the older utility mug remains in the kitchen cabinet while a finer, more fashionable cup takes its place. This cup is one of four whimsical terracotta cups that are all different in sizes, shapes and thickness, with saucers so eccentric in appearance that only my wife would seek out and impulsively acquire them. Watching her purchase peculiar items such as these cups and saucers distresses me to no end. Her choices can be so impractical. These cups and saucers are dysfunctional; they tilt slightly one way or another and depending on how you set one down, it can rock a little and even tip over.

Now I do not want to imply that my wife and her choices are completely impractical. She recognizes the need for useful items, it is just that she sees everything from a completely different perspective then me.  I grew up learning from the rule that “form follows function” with the bottom line of this principle being the better something functions, the more beautiful it will be by necessity (i.e., a comfortable shoe will be a beautiful shoe because of its comfort).

My wife, on the other hand, challenges my understandings through her engaging ability to help me look in a different way at things that I have always looked at in the same way. To her, it is basic. To me it is reinventing the rules, unconventional, and very uncomfortable. It is like she takes leaps in lateral thinking, when I prefer to move forward in a sequential order – like form follows function.

Her process is always revealing and invariably leads to further understandings. While the cool hand of reason rules a good portion of the week, in our family on Saturday mornings, form follows dysfunction thus drinking from unmatched coffee cups.

For some time my wife did have these cups and saucers all in a row on the windowsill in the kitchen just because she liked looking at them.  Then I started using them, and one by one, the cups broke-the thin, comically twisted handles being the first to go. We still have all four saucers left, but only two cups and neither of them have handles. Still I like using one of the cups on weekends even though I have spilled my coffee numerous times for not carefully placing the cup solidly on its saucer. Some of you might asked why I cling to this intimate experience with these cups.

Well, I do not know whether there is some truth to it — some interaction between the molecules of liquid and container-but coffee tastes different in those crazy cups. I have found styrofoam to be the worst and will go to great length to avoid it. Paper, if it is a Starbucks’ cup, is okay. Mugs and cups vary.  The blue idiosyncratic pottery my wife purchased, however, is perfect for my taste. Practically speaking, the cups are quite small necessitating frequent refills, and I don’t mind this because that means the coffee will stay naturally hot; I can drink a cup before it has a chance to cool down. And because it is the weekend, I can afford this luxury.

So on Saturday mornings I am adamant on the inconvenience of drinking out of a small cup that has no handle, that gets too hot to hold, that I cannot set it down without the danger of tipping the coffee out, and that I have to balance gingerly with one hand while I manage a muffin in the other, meaning I have to set one of them down to turn over the newspaper page.

Who else would do this? Only someone as dysfunctional as I am who has also come to appreciate the strangely beautiful things in life – things like me.  I tip.  I rock on my base. I fall over and spill out. I cannot be held for very long without burning someone. Nevertheless, I am seen as lovely and passionate by some – good to drink from. I was made this way by the Creator who had an eye for those of us that tip and do not function just to sit perfectly. He has found a way to use me regardless of my broken handles and uneven stand.

Though no longer a complete set, Marti would never think of throwing away what remains. She still thinks what is left is pleasant to the eye. I’m glad she does. These pieces are not replaceable. They are one of a kind,  just as are you … and me.

Which one of these mugs makes you younger than the other? What does that mean in terms of being functional versus dysfunctional?