Tip of My Iceberg

I’m not going to debate with anyone the bane or benefits of a good cup ‘o joe. The line is drawn. Some see it as healthy. Some see it as a crutch and hurtful to certain bodily functions.

I choose to enjoy it and not listen to any of them.

I had my first cup of coffee when I was seven. My Dad would always be up early in the morning, and the first thing he did was make coffee. I could smell it from upstairs. The aroma crept under the door, waking me with it’s warmth and promise.

It was Dad time.

Being an early riser myself, I’d go downstairs, sit by him at the table as he drank and read the paper.

He’d look up, grin at me, and slide his cup my way. And I’d take a few sips.

Black. Hot. It was the way Dad drank it. It’s how I learned to drink it.

Holding my first cup in the morning still takes me back to that old kitchen table.

Still an early riser, I have my first cup before John’s even thinking of getting up. But I don’t wait to make a whole pot.

We’ve got a Keurig. God’s gift to coffee addicts.

It’s a boost to my day, because John’s a half-caf or decaf kind of a guy.

I can grab a cup anytime of day I need it. Or want it.

There are times, though, that making a whole pot of coffee is the best. The flavor is a little richer. It gives opportunity to sit with John or others as we share a cup together. It’s measured time, taking time.

Going through the process. Measuring, grinding, allowing it to drip into that glass carafe as I wait for the that first savory sip.

That describes the parameters of my life. Always wanting–needing–the quick fix or waiting for due process.

Waiting always seems to turn out better.

That knowledge, however, doesn’t stop me from pushing my agenda and timetable. It doesn’t keep me from trying to make an end run around the process.

I don’t wait well. For anything.

I’m a daughter of my culture.

When I sit with friends and hear their challenges, my response is how to fix them. Now.

When I encounter personal pain or hardship, I want to end it. Now.

Life often needs to percolate. To draw the richness from the experience so that I can grow and learn.

Not really a cultural value.

God talks about the seasons of life, how He has made time for what needs to happen. For how He gives space for me to grow. To become more of what He knows I can be.

“There’s an opportune time to do things, a right time for EVERYTHING on earth…”   Ecclesiastes 3:1

God is outside of time and space so He’s not worried about rushing me through anything. He wants me to savor life with Him.

So I’ll learn to wait for the richer cup. The slow-drip cup.

And I’ll savor the moment. With Him.

It will produce a better me.