Where is my coffee?

It was another day at the office. My Bose Headphones keep me relatively unaware of the noise just outside my door. My children all join in their usual chorus of hymns and war chants. Whether it’s a castle or a cave, the living room is all that and more. It’s around 9:30 in the morning and my daughter loves to make me coffee. We use the fancified version of a coffee maker that brings your favorite coffee shop home. She usually makes it every day. It’s one of the sweetest treats throughout my day. She asked me early on if I wanted some and I replied in the affirmative.

The coffee didn’t show up at the usual time and I uttered to myself, “Where is my coffee?”

I had learned to expect things that were gifts. I had not earned the coffee nor does my daughter have some inherent duty to bring me coffee everyday.

She arrived as usual, but a little later. She was profusely apologetic for her tardiness. But why was she apologetic? Did she begin to believe that unless she showers daddy with gifts she will lose his favor? Have I learned to expect things that are meant to be gifts? Am I conveying an attitude that projects a certain parental entittlement?

Similarly I think sometimes we treat God in this manner. We expect from Him constant gifts when in reality His presence is the gift. Of course it delights my heart to see my children wishing to honor me, but have I stopped to consider that their presence is a gift far exceeding what they may do for me?

I sat with her later and told her that her presence in my life is a gift to me and that my commands are not meant to be burdensome.

The next day I didn’t expect the usual coffee, or at least my expectations had changed a bit. Then she walks in with a cup of coffee as aromatic as ever. I looked at her and said, “I don’t remember asking you for coffee.” She replied, ” I wanted to make it a surprise.” I want many more such surprises, but I want her heart to accompany those surprises.

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