is that coffee fresh?

This past Sunday, as an illustration in my sermon, I compared myself to my daughter. She's a coffee connoisseur- she can go into Starbucks and order something and know exactly what she's ordering! I'm much more like my wife...

[I'll never forget the time we were waiting for a flight in the airport. I went to get us coffee, but came back empty handed. My wife asked, "Where's my coffee?", to which I replied, "The menu was so confusing, I couldn't even tell what they carried, much less how to order." I mean, there wasn't even a small, medium and large anything! And the menu mentioned whipped cream and cinnamon. On coffee?! Anyhow, my wife, desperately needing that coffee, set down her book and started striding toward the beverage kiosk. Her walk had that "follow me, watch and learn" attitude. So I followed. And I was amazed. She glanced at the menu only for a second, and ordered some mysterious concoction as it she'd been drinking it all her life. The attendant, as he began to prepare it, asked a couple quick questions over his shoulder, to which my wife replied "double" to both. She received her coffee, paid the attendant, smiled at me with a wink, and turned briskly back towards her seat and book. I could hardly move- I stood entralled at her prowess in this area which was so foreign to me. And suddenly a pride began to build inside of me. This wise and powerful woman was my wife!

I'd just about made it back to my seat at the gate when I heard the sound. What was that?! There it was again, this time followed by a yowl. It was my wife! What had that wicked attendant done to her coffee? I looked quickly around- where was security?

Then I tried the coffee myself. YEOW!! It was thick... and bitter... and strong enough to pave highways with! She said, "I wonder if it has anything to do with that "double-double" stuff?" "You don't know?" I asked. "Heck no," she said. That sly fox- she was just trying to look cool. She had no more idea what all that stuff meant than I did. "You want this junk?", she asked as she offered me the cup. "You kidding?" I said. She walked to the trash can and dumped it in. $4.50 down the tube... and I bet it ate a hole in the trash can. But I digress...]

Anyhow, I mentioned how I'm such a "non-connoisseur" that I'll often go back to the leftover pot of coffee a couple days later and nuke a cup in the microwave to warm it up. As long as there's nothing growing in it, I figure it's fair game.

Then I met someone from church the other morning for a cup of coffee and a conversation. I sipped my coffee as I talked, and over the course of the conversation went back for a couple of refills. Man, this stuff was good! When I left, I told the young lady behind the register, "That was GREAT coffee! Thanks."

I was about halfway to my car when it hit me. They had prepared their coffee the way it was supposed to be prepared. And it showed. It was really good. At home, I kind of haphazardly measure my coffee into the filter, let it set on the burner for hours, forget about it until later, and then microwave it several times over the next couple of days before I drink it. I'd become so used to the junk I drink that when confronted with genuine coffee I was overwhelmed by its goodness.

And I thought: how often do we become similarly lax in our relationship with God. We forget about Him for days at a time, give Him the leftovers of our time and our attention, offer the quick prayer before bedtime to try and catch up on our righteousness, and then complain about the fact that "religion and church isn't everything it's cracked up to be." But then we stumble upon a genuine experience with God and, just like that fresh, real cup of restaurant coffee, we suddenly realize how special such an encounter is... and we clamor for more. The taste of the real thing should cause us not to settle for anything less- in our coffee or in our relationship with God. (To hear more about such a genuine encounter with God, click here or here.)

Oops... gotta run. The microwave just beeped! :)