I like coffee.
It's not a secret. Anyone who spends more than a few hours with me knows I enjoy that dark steamy brew. I'll drink it iced on a hot day, but there is just something about that first sip of hot dark coffee that soothes me to my core.
Generally all you need to do is pour the coffee into a drinking vessel and hand it to me. Sure, I like to add flavored stuff from time to time, but when it comes to just sitting down and drinking a cup of coffee, make it black.
I've shared in discussions about how hard it can be to get a cup of plain black coffee.
It usually goes something like this (and for purposes of this "S" is whoever I'm getting the coffee from...server, drive thru window, etc.)
S: What would you like to drink?
Me: Black coffee, please.
S: Would you like anything in that?
Me: No thank you.
S: Cream or Sugar?
Me: No thank you, just black coffee.
S: So nothing?
Me: That's right, just the coffee.
...I went to a local chain, famous for their coffee and due to the late hour, ordered my iced black coffee as decaf. We went through the usual confusion about how I just needed coffee...and the employee says "I don't think we can do that." Perfectly serious. I had to clamp my lips together to keep from laughing. I did my best to be polite in telling him that he really could. He got his manager who gave him the look I was trying hard not to. The "how on earth are you actually working in a coffee shop??" She patiently told him to fill a cup with ice, pour decaf coffee over it and give it to me.
There's a comedian who talks about trying to order a cup of black coffee. "How would you like that, sir?" "um....can you put it in a cup?"
Once upon a time I wrote for my college newspaper. I wrote an article on complicated simplicity.
It's part of the human condition. We take the simplest of concepts and do our best to make them as complicated as possible. Anyone who knows me knows I can quote movies on command, will often use movie quotes in every day conversation and I think that's not only just fine, but also a bit of a talent.
In "You've Got Mail" (Warner Brothers 1998) Tom Hanks' character is emailing Meg Ryan's character and talking about coffee shops.
Joe Fox says: The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the [heck] they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino.
Now don't get me wrong, I love me a venti soy quad shot caramel macchiato with whip....but it has its place.
I realized that life can really be compared to coffee. No really, it's not the Italian roast talking. Hear me out.
Life could be simple. A mug of hot black coffee on a sunny porch, watching people walk their dogs. Life has special occasions - there's my six decision cup of coffee right there - but it is only as complicated as I want it to be. I could wander in to a coffee shop and say "a mug of coffee please."
I could go in texting on my cell phone, while chatting through my blue tooth, act annoyed that the server DARED to interrupt my conversation by *gasp!* doing their job and asking what I would like. I could ignore the line of people behind me, and hem and haw over the menu, ask what each thing contains, ask for numerous substitutions to suit my mood then tap my fingernails on the glass until they bring me the cup of coffee...then change my mind about the whipped cream and could they fix this that and the other thing.
....where is she going with this? those people are awful. I've been behind them and all I wanted was a cup of black coffee and a slice of pumpkin loaf....
Bear with me. I'm getting there.
At our house we've got a bit of a routine. Bug gets up at an awful early hour and gets ready for work, if Bean has decided she needs to be awake too he gives her a drink, helps her to the potty and puts her back to bed reminding her that it's way too early to be awake...he comes in and kisses me goodbye before he leaves for work and I drift back to sleep until Bean realizes it's daylight and she can't possibly stay asleep another moment. (P.S. Thanks Frozen, for teaching my daughter to try to pry my eyelids open and ask if I'd like to build a snowman...)
We get up. I turn on the Keurig, get Bean something to eat and a drink and set her up with her breakfast tray and her quiet time supplies - usually a book in the morning. I brew my coffee, climb back into bed and open my Bible.
I am so not a morning person. (hey! I can hear that sarcastic "no really?") "No talkie before coffee" is a delightful motto. I need to wake up slowly. When I had an office job, I often was at work at least an hour before I needed to be. Drink my coffee, read, slowly wake up and get to the point where I could be a polite sociable member of society.
I gave birth to the perkiest morning person ever. She wakes up and it's LET'S PLAY! THE SUN IS UP! WEEE FUN TIME! and yet...if she isn't given her quiet time to ease into her day, in just a couple short hours she's crankier than mommy on decaf after no sleep.
So we have quiet time. I sip my hot coffee, I read my Bible. I start my day soaking in God's promises. I pray for my husband, my family, my friends, needs I've seen posted in prayer groups, texted to me, emailed...I pray. Sometimes quiet time doesn't last for long because a three year old's attention span isn't the best and did you know yogurt is oh so fun to finger paint with all over your breakfast tray?
Sometimes I get to finish my coffee while it's hot. Sometimes I reheat it and sometimes I just drink it cold because there's no time for a microwave.
I've said many many many times before and I will probably say it at least as many again. I don't have a religion. I have a relationship with Jesus Christ. And there's a lot of times I complicate it far more than I need to. It can be as simple as "just pour the coffee into a mug." I can sit down, open my Bible and pray and say "pour into me, God" and listen for an answer; wait for his peace to flood me. I can also sit there and argue and yell at God why my way is better, and how He should answer my prayers and....just plain not realize how silly it is to think that the creator of the universe needs my help in knowing what is best for me.
He has brought me through countless trials, carried me through the darkest days of my life, unspeakable pain...and never left my side. And here I am telling Him that He "has" to do it this way. Boy, I can be arrogant. There's many times I look at my daughter and tell her "trust me, I know what I'm talking about and if you'd just listen to me you could avoid this trouble."
I wonder if God laughs at me when I say that. I wonder how many times a day He shakes His head at me. I've taken the simple and made it as complicated as I possibly can. Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 ESV
So today, I pour a cup of hot black coffee into a mug, and I sit and I wait. I tell God what's going on that has me stressed and worried. I ask Him to help me with it...and here's the tricky part...I have to let go.
Think about a child asking for help with a toy; or a dog wanting to play fetch if you don't have many dealings with kids. They bring you the toy, "help me please" or *wags tail with ball in mouth* "Ok, give it to me and I can." But they won't. let. go. You'd like nothing more than to flip that little switch on the bottom of the toy so it works right, or toss that ball....but you can't do a thing until it's in your hands.
I guess there's a little bit of a three year old in all of us.
There's a book I love, Blue Like Jazz. In it, Donald Miller is discussing his mental wall between religion and God. He says "It was something like a slot machine, a set of spinning images that doled out rewards based on behavior and, perhaps, chance." (Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller, July 2003)
I've done that. Gone about my life, and as long as life was good, why on earth would I take precious time out of my day to sit and read my Bible or pray? But then something would happen and I'd find myself handing my daughter off to my husband and heading off to a closed room to cry and pray and demand to know why such things were allowed to happen to me. I'd in effect, pull the lever of the slot machine, and be mad that the machine ate my quarter.
It's not a religion. It's a relationship. Could you imagine if you treated your spouse that way? Come home, not say anything, go about your routine and only talk to them when you wanted something? My guess is you'd not have a spouse for long. But the beautiful thing about God is that He's patient. He's listening. And most importantly, He's constant and doesn't respond like humans.
So, today I invite you to pour a cup of coffee and take a quiet moment and ask God to pour into your soul.
Cheers
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