My relationship with coffee began in Los Angeles, CA while serving in urban ministry with The Center for Student Missions. Eighteen years old and eager to experience the joys of urban living, I carefully observed my City Director, Renee. She took me to an open market in downtown LA. Smells of seafood, authentic refried beans, and that scent that only an urban area can afford mingled with something...well...heavenly: Vanilla Coffee. Renee coached me as I ordered my first cup of joe. Tall, a shot of vanilla, then adding a bunch of creamer and 4 sugars. I sipped and talked, and sipped and walked, and sipped...and floated! By the time I had finished my vanilla goodness, I was so hyper I think I could have run the 20 mile length from downtown to my apartment.
That first cup is something that one never forgets.
And my affinity towards coffee has only grown since then. I enjoy coffee in the morning. I enjoy coffee at night. Coffee warms me in the winter and iced coffee refreshes me in summer. Coffee was there to help me through all-night paper writing sessions in college and long drives from Chicago to West Virginia. When I experienced heartbreak, Coffee helped me get started every morning. Coffee was there when I celebrated major milestones. Coffee even joined me on our honeymoon! Coffee goes really well with good conversation and an old friend. Coffee is even quite enjoyable when alone with a good book. I love days when Coffee, C.S. Lewis and I get to hang out together for an hour at a coffee shop. I've met with Coffee on trains, in pancake houses, drive-thrus and even in flower shops.
Recently, I've disrupted my joys of coffee drinking in effort to become more healthy. I dropped the Splenda because everyone says it's bad for me; but coffee with just non-dairy creamer is blah. So I have made my taste buds endure black coffee for a week now. And here is my conclusion: Coffee is like blankets. I can either choose to cover up with a scratchy but warm wool blanket, or I can envelop myself with my favorite red, plush blanket. Both serve the purpose of warmth, but there's something of comfort and security in my red blanket that draws me. I look forward to covering myself and drifting off to sleep under it. I can drink my coffee straight up black, and I can actually tolerate it. It does it's job. But there's something about the creamy smoothness of my preferred cup of coffee that lingers in my memory and calls out to me. And so, I've resigned myself to a compromise. I'll drop the Splenda, in exchange for flavored coffee creamer (my favorite being hazelnut). My rapport with coffee will endure a mild change.
As I come to terms with drinking a new-to-me style of coffee, I'm reminded of a few matters of the heart. The first is moderation. Drinking coffee is not a bad thing. In fact, Scripture tells us in 1Timothy 4:4-5 that everything that God creates is good and is not to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving. But, I also have a responsibility to take care of the body that God has given me. Secondly, coffee is not my ultimate source of comfort and joy. I am learning daily to find my peace in the Lord.
(Special thanks goes out to my husband who is often on the other side of the table as we partake of coffee and wonderfully deep conversations...he helps me to sort through my thoughts, see the steeple more clearly and engage with the Word of God more fully.)
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