09/06/2026
The Dirty Cup
By Jill Morikone | September 5
“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7
The music swelled as we approached the refrain. “I need Thee, O I need Thee; every hour I need Thee.” My eyes traveled around the room as my sisters sang with gusto—some off-key, others monotone, and still others true and clear. “O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.”
We held hands, and my friend from church prayed. Tears fell as we pleaded for shattered homes, hurting children, and freedom from addictions. Then peace filled the room as they opened the Bibles we’d brought them for a study on temptation.
There were never enough seats, so my blue-clad sisters shared chairs, desks, and the floor. As each one shared a temptation—food, fear, anger, cutting, s*x, and drugs—I was struck by the similarities. Same pain. Same emptiness. Same need to fill the void inside with junk because they couldn’t see a way out. But while I could see some eagerly reaching out and grasping onto God any way they could, others whispered and giggled. Perhaps some even wished they’d never left their jail cell.
It was time.
I pulled out the mud-smeared Styrofoam cups I’d brought and watched their attention snap back into focus.
The first cup was dirty, inside and out. I talked about the effects of sin, how Satan twists our thinking and defiles our hearts, then smears us up on the outside like Mary Magdalene when she was dragged before Jesus, caught in the act of adultery.
The second one was clean, but a tip of the cup showed the filth inside. I talked about hypocritical Christians, and holier-than-thou attitudes.
The third cup was dirty outside, but clean inside. The thief on the Cross fell into this category after Jesus forgave him. Onlookers saw a dying sinner, but Heaven saw a cleansed and pure heart—and rejoiced!
The fourth cup was pure white, without a trace of mud. It represented the purity of Jesus. How He longed to change our hearts from the inside out.
Suddenly one of my sisters raised her hand. “I know what cup I am!” she said, sitting cross-legged on the floor, orange Crocs sticking out from her blue jail uniform.
I glanced her way. “What cup, Karen?” *
“This one,” she said, picking the one that was dirty outside, yet pure inside. “Jesus cleansed my heart and forgave me, but I’m still filthy on the outside.”
Tears filled my eyes. What a spiritual leader Karen was in our jail! In the past year, she’d encouraged the other girls, studied her Bible, and her countenance had changed from guarded and dark to open and transparent sunshine! No, she wasn’t a dirty cup at all, but she couldn’t see that.
I knelt down by the cups on the floor, slowly picked up the pure white one, and held it out to her. “Karen, you may feel like that dirty old cup on the outside, but when we look at you we see the pure cup. The cleansing blood of Jesus has spilled out of your heart and transformed your life—and your face!”
Her eyes welled up with tears.
“We’re so blessed by your walk with God,” I continued. “You reflect Him! You see yourself dirty, and yes, you are in jail; but we see that you’re free from your past. We see the peace and purity of Jesus in you.”
Our study continued, but my heart was pierced. How many of my sisters and brothers can’t see the change God is making in their hearts? I wondered. How many have I failed to encourage, or neglected to pray for? Worse yet, how many times have I judged a dirty cup, failing to recognize that the streaks flowing down their face are really the washing from the water of the Word and the oil of the Holy Spirit as they spill out, doing their cleansing work.
Oh, God, give me eyes to see.