Coffee Doctrine

Posted on March 10, 2009 12:00 AM MST by Tiffany Kinerson

“For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit...” Romans 14:17

I love coffee. Even the culture that surrounds it is funky, colorful. Rich. My house is decorated in coffeehouse colors. I’ve got caramel macchiato in my living room, espresso in the music room, a bold red and Mediterranean green in my kitchen—just like my favorite coffee bars. It’s great. And warm and homey. I’ve got to stop talking about it, I love it so much. I might drool on the keyboard or something.

But the thing is, as much as I enjoy the drink, it does not run my life. Or at least it doesn’t run my life anymore. You see, there was a time when it did just that. When my boys were young, I courted thoughts of ditching the kids while they napped so I could just run out “real quick” to get a cappuccino. I never quite got to the point where I actually did that, but I could’ve. If given the right circumstance, I suppose. And then after we moved just down the street from a coffeehouse—oooh!—the budget got mangled under the cost of my daily coffee—a non-fat caramel macchiato, made upside-down, thank you very much.

I used to pass by the store, and my eyes would get drawn to the funky coffee place. Like there was some sort of magnet built into the deep smells, the colors that sang sweet relief to my soul. Inevitably I would stop, stand in line, my smile growing wider as even my clothes soaked in the ambiance, the satisfaction of the place.

Slowly, slowly, God revealed to me how much of a hold that place and that drink had on me. “Let Me hold you like that,” He said.

Well, I’ve never been one for self-control. Actually, I’m not really sure if that exists at all in this world. Sometimes I watch my husband and think maybe it could exist somewhere... But self-control is not my way. Never has been. I don’t diet, I don’t set aside specific times to exercise, and I certainly don’t schedule in my quiet time like all the books seem to think you should. Rather, I’ve always let God make it happen in my life.

And He knows me, He knows what a cheeky little fellow I can be. But He also knows my heart. He knows that in refusing to control myself, I’ve given up a chance to celebrate me and opened up a door to glorify Him in all that I don’t do. This way, He keeps me at a normal weight, He shows me when I can exercise (and it usually happens about every day), and He beckons me to quality time with Him (also happens all the time). And it’s fun. Not the drudgery that giving up my favorite coffee place could be. Not the focus on what I can’t do, but the joy of how much I can do through Him.

So I called Him to the task on this coffee thing. “God, You know me. If You think this is not where I should be, then You will have to change my heart. You’ll have to change me because I like that drink. And I like this life, this smell, these colors. I want them all the time.”

A couple of days after I set things straight with Him and laid my prepaid cards on the table before Him, I drove by the coffee place. Out of habit, maybe...or perhaps it was to test Him, I pulled over and got out of my car. I stood in line and waited while my clothes and eyes soaked in the ambiance as usual. But the funny thing is, when the barista finally got to me and asked me what I wanted, nothing looked good. The fluffy, whipped cream topped ice drink was too...rich. The macchiato was too...sweet. The cappuccino, too plain. The mocha, too expensive for what I wanted that day. Nothing.

I looked at her with vacancy in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t want anything at all.” Then I turned around and walked out the door with a freedom I didn’t know existed. It wasn’t that I was never allowed back in that place again. It wasn’t that I had to erect some wall between me and the “evil” coffee place forevermore. No, that’s not what the Kingdom of God is about. It was that the drink had been put back where it belonged in my life: as a drink. Nothing more, nothing less. And it controls me no longer. It can be my favorite, but it’s not a requirement for survival.

How cool is that, to be controlled by no substance? Freed by God for peace and joy.

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