More Than a Gulp

It’s a Monday morning. I wake up, scramble to find my slippers and feed the dog. Somehow, I forget that I hadn’t showered yet, and I have an early zoom meeting where even the best lighting won’t hide the sleep lines and bags underneath my eyes. How did I ever professionally present myself before work-from-home life? The smell of coffee permeates my small historic home, and the sun filters through the sheer white living room curtains. The calm of morning interrupts my routine like a red light, reminding me to stop. I pour my coffee and add creamer, frothing it together before topping the fluffy foam with a sprinkle of cinnamon like a natural barista.

My corner spot on the couch is waiting; my Bible hinting to be opened. I tuck myself in, glancing at the clock. Ten minutes until my phone will buzz with a warning that my first meeting is ahead. How did I only leave a few minutes for my time with God? Guilt seeps into my bones, telling me I never wake up early enough like the dedicated christians who talk with God before the sunrise. I crack open my Bible, apologetically flipping to Proverbs. Deciding on any other book would only suck more time from my already-limited session.

I begin reading chapter two, my eyes escaping the sentence to glance down to take a peek at the rest of the chapter. I could get through the whole thing in a few minutes, right? Maybe I could skim to make it through each verse. I pull my eyes from the page to supervise as I cup my full mug in my palms. Steam twists up from the top, daintily vanishing into the air. I exhale and bring the mug to my chest like a warm hug. The fresh smell brushes past my nose, awakening my taste buds. I tilt the mug against my lips and allow the hot liquid to meet the buds that had so patiently waited. The taste, so familiar and all the while invigorating; like a thrilling conversation with an old friend or a breathtaking view from the warn-in leather seat of a car.

My eyelids brush shut as I swallow a modest sip. I return my gaze to the page, intending to continue before the clock makes me stop. My mug is still full and warm and prepared to offer its contents slowly and steadily throughout my morning.

I reach for the mug once again, remembering the time I first introduced coffee to someone. For the sake of the story, let’s just call this someone, Joe. Joe was almost thirty but had never allowed his love for the smell of coffee to mature into a love for the taste. Finally, after introducing him to a collection of different creamers, he found a flavor and learned how he “takes his coffee.” A true step into adulthood, if you ask me.

Only a few weeks into this new coffee relationship, we had to take a trip to the airport. It was one of those early mornings that you only see before a scheduled surgery or a ride to the airport. We brewed a pot of coffee and selected tall double-insulated travel mugs that would slip perfectly into the car’s cup holders. We got in the car and took off. As I vicariously lived through his newfound enjoyment of the drink, I asked him how his coffee tasted. If you weren’t aware, coffee tastes better when enjoying it with someone. It’s just a fact.

What I heard next was appalling. He pulled the mug from his mouth and gulped. A gulp. Who gulps coffee? Then, his words were even more atrocious. He said, “I’m trying to finish drinking it now.” I held my steaming travel mug, resting it on my lap as my mouth searched for words. How could I have led him so astray in his new venture?

“Coffee isn’t a drink,” I said. “It’s a way of life.”

First of all, drinking coffee isn’t like chugging water. It’s consumed for the smell, the flavor, the warmth, the caffeine, the comradery. I can think of many ways to enjoy coffee and drinking it simply is not one of them. You don’t finish coffee like you finish a sandwich.

The exchange makes me chuckle to this day. How silly and almost juvenile to treat a sacred act in such a simple-minded way. So now, as I force my eyes down the lines of Proverbs two, I draw the parallel. My cozy mug is treated with patience as my Bible has become a task.

Even if I was to meditate on three words from one single verse for my ten-minute window, it would be more delightful and impactful than rushing through an entire chapter. As a blissful sip of fresh coffee is to a chug (gasp) of a cup of joe, meditating on God’s word is to skimming a paragraph to accomplish a reading assignment.

So, as I sip my coffee every morning with my Bible, I’m reminded that God’s word is a way of life not a gulp.