Coffee

You're intrigued right?!? A blog post about one of your favorite subjects. The liqueur of the gods.  The substance by which you pull yourself into coherence every morning. The beautiful gift of warmth and goodness in the chaos of your day. The boost of joy that comes from driving thru your very favorite coffee joint and sipping on that drink made just for you.  One of my favorite quotes from You've Got Mail sums it up quite well:

"The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the hell they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino." -Joe Fox

Here's the thing: I gave up coffee for Lent. (GASP) Either you are shocked that I would do such a thing, or you're shocked that I shared what I gave up for Lent (after all isn't that supposed to be between me and God?), but there's shock nonetheless.  I don't share this with you to brag about my holiness, but rather this post is about the realization of my complete and utter failures to walk with Jesus in this Lenten season.

My choice to go off of coffee wasn't an idea that had been brewing for a while (hehe I'm full of coffee jokes, watch out!), but rather it came after the flu hit our family.  Being off of coffee for 3 days was quite the shock to my system. Outrageous headaches that left me unable to open my eyes helped me figuratively open my eyes to see just how dependent my body was on this substance.  Me, being the strong-willed person that I am (don't remind me of this when I'm lamenting the strong will of my children...), decided that I would not be beholden to anything!  I would give up coffee for Lent and show coffee who is boss! (Because that's what Lent is all about right?!? That's the spirit of humility Katie!)

So I stayed off of coffee. And it was hard. I mean really hard.  I was completely and totally exhausted every day. The first Sunday after I gave up the good stuff I could barely keep my eyes open in church.  But I had committed to this. I was going to muscle through. And so I pushed on. Day after day getting up, trudging through the day, surviving until nap time, trudging some more and going to bed at 8 o'clock every night. "This is ridiculous," I thought. There is no way I was this addicted to coffee.  But oh, I was. I mean, I would day dream about going to Starbucks. I would lay in bed in the morning and imagine how much better my life would be if I could just get up and go fill my mug with delicious coffee. I'm a little horrified at how my soul longed for this, and how much I wanted to give up.

With Lenten sacrifices I haven't ever really felt tempted to give up.  I've missed the things I had given up, but I had never really considered giving in. I talked with my most trusted friends, and they could see the merits in giving up. I was a mom of young kids, this is a hard season, coffee is a tool God supplies us with to survive this season.  These things are all valid and true. Another piece for me was the argument against legalism. Was I just trying to follow through on my fast to prove something to myself? To prove something to God? Or was this truly drawing me to God? Reminding me of the greatest sacrifice He made for me?  I would recite a verse from Psalm 63, "The steadfast love of the Lord is better than life..." over and over again, but it wouldn't help. Then I would beat myself up that I didn't love God enough to be willing to give up this small, insignificant thing for Him. Legalism at its finest.

And then I got diagnosed with pneumonia. I have never known sickness or exhaustion like that. I truly could not get out of bed to make a cup of tea without becoming fatigued. It took everything in me to get out of bed to get Izzy dressed and brush her hair before climbing back onto the couch to nap. I began to wonder if I needed to be off of caffeine so I could truly know how sick I was. Maybe if I had been drinking coffee I would not have been able to discern the signs and symptoms of my illness as well. Or maybe I was just plain fool for not relying on coffee to pull me through. I mean, God gave us this gift, why not use it?  But I was determined. I could do this.

I'm finally resurfacing from the pneumonia haze, and yesterday Izzy was sick and up half the night.  That was it! It really felt like my breaking point. I pulled out my phone at 6 am yesterday to ask my mom to bring me a nice grande coffee from Starbucks, but I stopped myself. And I prayed, "God give me the strength I need to get through this day. You are able to strengthen me, even without coffee. You are the Giver of strength." There it was, there was the missing link through this Lenten season. I was SO determined that I could do this on my own. My will was strong enough. My self-discipline great enough. But I am not. I am not strong enough to face my day without God.  Coffee is a crutch, an illusion of strength and power for me. If I can keep myself up and going for long enough, I can do enough things, and be enough, and love enough and serve enough, and then I will be enough for everyone.  But I am not enough. I'm not. And saying that makes me feel free!  I was convinced that I was weak for being unable to handle life without coffee, but the truth is that I am weak. I need to know I am weak. I'm not superhuman, and while I could drink a legal addictive stimulant and try to convince myself that I am, when it is ripped away, I will be weak as I always have been.

We don't like to admit weakness in our culture. It's a sign of failure, of not applying ourselves enough. But our faith in God is predicated on our weakness.  Without knowing how limited and weak we are, we are unable to understand our need for a Savior. Without seeing our inability to handle life, to raise good kids, to be hard-working employees, to be loving spouses, to live outside of our own selfish desires, we can't understand how Jesus' sacrifice really is everything to us. The words to Jesus Loves Me flood to mind, "they are weak but He is strong. Yes Jesus loves me." He loves us so much that He gives us His strength. He gifts it to us over and over again. When we can see our weakness, we can fall on our knees and ask for His strength.  And that is what Lent is all about--reminding us of our need for a Savior.

I needed to remove coffee from my life so I could see just how dependent I was on it. It's scary to think about my thoughts and responses to not having coffee in my life, thoughts I really think are akin to how those who remove other addictive substances from their life like alcohol and drugs. I had made coffee an idol, coming to it day after day, asking it to be enough to sustain me.  But just like every idol, it wasn't enough. Only Christ alone can sustain, only He can satisfy. I think I will be returning to a life of coffee ten days from now, but I hope it will be with a different mindset, and with a clear perspective on where I need to go for comfort and strength day after day.

I'm so thankful that I serve a God who loves me enough to knock me off my feet, onto my knees, so that I can look up into His face and once again know I am His beloved. And I'm thankful that I can face my day to day with the strength He provides (1 Peter 4:11). I can do all things through Him. Amen.