Cold Coffee and Bad Jokes

Today I’m sitting in a coffee shop drawing weird shit in my notebook and listening to music without words.

 

It’s nothing unusual.

 

But as I’ve been focusing on these things, I’ve intermittently forgotten about the reason why I actually ended up in this coffee shop… for the coffee.

More than anyone else on the planet, it is likely that I will oftentimes have cold coffee sitting next to me. Not because I hate coffee. I actually enjoy coffee. I just forget it is there, so naturally, it gets cold.

 

As I sip on my cold coffee, I have a moment of relating to a cup of coffee more than ever before.

 

In this season of my life, I feel like I am cold coffee.

 

And I don’t mean like iced coffee or a frozen coffee… those coffees are meant to be cold.

I mean, I feel like coffee that was meant to be hot, but now I’m cold.

 

Not many people enjoy coffee that has gotten cold. People actually oftentimes just throw it away.

 

That’s how I feel. Disposable.

Because I used to seemingly have everything together. I used to be one who had a lot of life’s answers. I was so close to God. I was interested in loving others. I was all about going into missions and living a life completely and totally devoted to God.

 

But now?

 

I’ve lost it.

What purpose do I have?

What’s the vision now?

Why pray? Why fast? Why live a disciplined life?

Everything I was once passionate about seems so dull.

All the color I had has faded into gray.

 

I don’t have answers. All I have is questions. And I’m not satisfied.

 

I’m like this cold cup of coffee that I’m drinking. I can keep putting it in the microwave all I want, but I will forget about it over and over again and it will be cold again. Eventually, it’s just not going to be worth it anymore.

 

I fear that the people I love and care about will realize that I’m not worth keeping anymore.

I fear that I will be disposed of, in a metaphorical way… this isn’t some mystery murder post.

I fear that God will grow tired of putting me in a microwave only for me to grow cold again.

 

But that’s where I realize this isn’t working anymore.

The solution isn’t the momentary glimpses of warmth. Zapping me in the microwave with little bits of revelation of the Lord’s love for me isn’t doing much.

 

I have to be emptied, completely.

And we have to start over.

 

Because this cold coffee tastes like shit.

 

And when the Father brews a fresh pot of coffee and fills my cup, I can’t expect that I will be like that old cup of coffee.

It’s scary to think that my calling may not be missions anymore or that the perfect world I used to live in where I had all the answers actually never existed.

Everything I once held to be true and as a reality has been shattered. Perhaps, I am in a faith crisis.

Or perhaps, the Lord is emptying out all that gross coffee.

 

I don’t know what is to come.

 

But a few things that I do know…

I don’t want to keep pretending that it’s “cool” to be cold coffee. [Ignore that pun.]

There has been stagnant, cold coffee sitting in a paper cup for months. There’s no way this paper cup can hold anything. It’s time for a fresh cup.

New beginnings are terrifying. But this is necessary.

I’m not alone. It’s always been in the Father’s heart for me to be refreshed. He really is making all things new.

Emptying oneself of old habits and old “coffee” can be a really gross and uncomfortable process. We’ve all experienced moldy cups and having to clean those out. It’s really gross and not something you want to do… but it’s going to be worth it.

 

That is it: It’s going to be worth it.

 

It’s not going to happen overnight. It’s going to take time to get to where I need to be.

But my Father has been shattering all the places of security and comfortability that I’ve built over these past few years that are not found in Him. He’s pulling the floors out from under me and I’ve fallen through from one floor to the next.

 

He loves me enough to break my heart. That’s the greatest paradox of them all.

He’s a good Dad, and the best friend I’ve ever had.

 

Now, I will cheesily raise my coffee cup to this season of being emptied.

He’s faithful. He always has been.

 

 

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