Stale Toast and Lukewarm Coffee
Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I’m no chef, but when it comes to breakfast dishes, I shine. On one particular morning, I had dark roast coffee brewing in the French press, scrambled eggs in the pan, and bread toasting to golden perfection, awaiting a generous helping of butter.
Having filled the bellies of my two sons and parked them in front of a Veggie Tales video, I carried my plate and mug of coffee to the table, looking forward to a moment alone. I gazed outside at the peaceful backyard, covered in morning dew. As I took the first delicious bite, I heard crying.
I froze. Boys are rough and tough. Any chance they work it out on their own? Maybe it was just an overreaction. The crying continued so I raced upstairs to try to take care of the skirmish as quickly as possible before my breakfast cooled.
In the midst of disciplining each brother, my son Hunter (age 5 at the time) asked, “Mom, what is the Trinity?” The Trinity? Seriously?
At that moment, I was faced with a choice. I could blow off the question with a quote from the Parent’s Handbook: “How about we talk about that later?” Or I could answer his question now while he was interested.
After a half hour of trying to explain the Trinity by comparing it to an egg (different parts that make one whole), different hats each person wears (son, brother, child of God), and even a Lego set (I hadn’t had my coffee yet, remember?), Hunter hugged me and skipped off to play.
I trudged back downstairs and found congealed eggs, stale toast, and lukewarm coffee. Ugh! After heating up my coffee (for the first of many times that day) and eating a pop-tart instead of my delicious breakfast, I realized that instead of feeling disappointed about my circumstances, I felt satisfied with the choice I made.
You see, I have plans . . . for the day, the week, the year, my life! I love to be organized. But if we look at the life of Jesus, we find a different way of living.
Jesus entertained seemingly unexpected guests; He didn’t have an itinerary that the disciples could consult on trips; He was peppered with questions at every turn. He had a plan, but not one the disciples (or anyone else) expected. His life seemed to be full of chaos and interruptions. Yet, in the midst of that, He taught the most amazing lessons, performed awesome miracles, and touched and healed the sick and hurting.
My prayer is that my agenda will not keep me from experiencing the God moments. I want to pause in the midst of the chaos . . . even if it means stale toast and lukewarm coffee.
