How Coffee Makes Me a Better Christian

When I discovered that the elementary school in our town starts at 7:30 a.m., I died a little on the inside. The early school day means that I have to rise before 6 a.m. to get our daughter up, dressed, fed, and ready by the time the bus comes by. 

Y'all. I just can't even describe how devastating this knowledge was to me. It's no secret that I'm not a morning person. Over the years, I've tried to get up "an hour earlier" than my kids, and I've failed every. single. time. I'm just not wired that way.

I immediately decided that if I had to get up before the sun, I needed a ritual—something to look forward to every morning. And I also needed some caffeine. In large doses. Which led me to the conclusion that I needed learn how to like coffee.

Dennis laughed at me and rolled his eyes when I told him my plan. He thought I was being a little ridiculous, but he supported my quest to find a brand of coffee that didn't make me gag (Lavazza, for the win, by the way), and he faithfully washes my little espresso maker when I leave it sitting in the sink. Because apparently I can't do regular coffee. Nope. That would be too easy. It's a homemade mocha latte for me every single morning.

Anyway. Back to the point. I knew that if I didn't have a tangible, physical reason to stay awake after the bus rolled away, I would make a beeline back to bed as soon as possible. But if I could manage to make the coffee before the bus came, then after it left, I would settle down in my chair with my coffee (usually in a Dwell mug), my Bible, and my journal to enjoy some quiet time alone with the Lord before I had to wake up the youngest for preschool.

I mean, I'm not going to waste the coffee. I just made it, for crying out loud. I'm 100 percent serious when I tell you that making a cup of coffee every morning has done more for my spiritual life than I ever imagined possible.

I feel a little silly telling you this because I'm a writer of Bible studies. I'm supposed to have this quiet time thing down by now. But the reality of my life as a stay-at-home mom sometimes runs me ragged, and the truth is that I like to sleep. A lot. And sometimes I want to sleep more than I want to spend time in the Word. The struggle is real. Am I right?

But y'all, here's the lesson I've been learning: Sometimes the spark we need to get us going is as simple as a cup of coffee, a pretty journal, or a friend to hold us accountable. There's nothing magical about the coffee, but the physical act of preparing it helps keep my quiet times on track. Maybe it could help you too. 

Until next time, grace and peace.

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Love Came Down (Advent Week Four)

This is the fourth of a 4-part Advent series posted each week before Christmas. Each post corresponds with the free Family Advent Wreath Devotional, available for download in the LAJ Shop. You can read the first week's post, Hope in the Darkness, here. You can read the second week's post, Peace for the Ravaged, here. You can read the third week's post, Joy for the Broken, here.

What a whirlwind this season of Advent has been. It's been wild, y'all. I don't know what went wrong, but despite my intentions to have a calm and collected season, it hasn't happened. I've felt more frazzled than ever. I suppose some years are just like that.

Even now, I feel rushed. In just a few minutes, I need to start getting ready for the Christmas Eve service at church. I still have presents to wrap, and there are still at least 37 things on my to-do list before I can fall into bed tonight.

But I need to stop for a minute to breathe. To consider the magnitude of God's love for us. Jeremiah 31:3 says that God's love is of the everlasting variety. It goes on and on and on into eternity. It has no beginning, and it has no end. It's vaster than our wildest imaginations. 

And it's for us.

Sometimes I look at my children and think my heart can hardly contain all the love I feel for them. Can you imagine how God feels when he considers his children?

He loves us. And because he loves us, he came down. He loved us when we were at our most unlovely, and he loves us still. He didn't wait for us to get our acts together or get our ducks in a row before coming. No. He showed up. He stepped right into the crazy alongside us. He showed us what love looks like.

It looks like God bending down low and tucking in tight to put on the flesh of a tiny human baby. So that we might know that he is not so far above us that he cannot hear our cries for help. So that we may see his love on full display. So that we may know him and experience the fullness of his grace, mercy, and love.

He has loved us with an everlasting love. My prayer for you tonight, sweet friends, on this last day of this last week of Advent, is that you would lean into that love and let it wash over you. Sink into it, feel the comfort of his embrace, and be filled with wonder.

Until next time, grace and peace.

Joy for the Broken (Advent Week Three)

This is the third of a 4-part Advent series posted each week before Christmas. Each post corresponds with the free Family Advent Wreath Devotional, available for download in the LAJ Shop. You can read the first week's post, Hope in the Darkness, here. You can read the second week's post, Peace for the Ravaged, here.

Truth: I'm having a hard time with joy today. I've got a cold (again), it's a dreary day outside, and every time I login to facebook, I see a prayer request for another bad situation. 

Lives lost too soon.

Families left behind.

Wildfires running rampant.

Inoperable brain tumors.

Brilliant minds falling to dementia.

Marriages torn by divorce.

Children left fatherless.

Friends losing jobs.

And that's just what's happening in the lives of people that I know personally. In the rest of the world, things are far worse. War. Churches being bombed. Children buried under rubble. Civilians being executed.

The bad news is relentless. And in the face of such an overwhelming flood, it's nearly impossible to keep your head above water. Another wave is bound to come crashing down soon.

But it's into this fray that Christmas comes. And that, dear friends, is where our hope and joy are found. The promise of the gospel is not that we would never know suffering or feel pain but that he has seen our suffering and known our pain, and he has entered into it with us. The wonder of Christmas is that God Almighty came down. When we cried out for help, he came running.

Jesus is the joy of our salvation. He's our rescuer sent from heaven. He's our help in times of deepest need. He's the promise of aid on the horizon. When your current circumstances obscure joy, remember this: Christ has come. Christ has risen. And Christ will come again. 

When that time comes, he will wipe away every tear from every eye. There will be no more sorrow, no more grief, no more pain. No more sickness or death. We will be with God, and in his presence, no darkness can dwell.

Though the sorrow may last for a night, joy comes in the morning. Morning is coming, sweet friends. And that's good news of great joy, indeed.

Until next time, grace and peace.

O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM

(Verse  Four)
 

O holy child of Bethlehem!
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in,
Be born in us today!
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Immanuel.

— Phillips Brooks (1835-1893)