The Kindness of Coffee

I drove to worship practice last night, my mind wandering to another reality as I pressed forward. I listened to a famous pop singer and wondered how many cups of vanilla latte she can buy in a week. One a day? More, maybe? Then, for that second, I thought, That’d be so nice.

But then I remembered the day. I remembered the gift given in a big black box with ONYX Coffee inside, a birthday present from my parents and our dear friends in Fayetteville to celebrate Trav’s 29 years of life.

He opened that box slowly, cherished the scents rising from the thick cardboard and the silky black bags of beans. It was then that we knew what we wanted for our afternoon.

I got down the chemex that’s been hiding above the refrigerator, because when Trav leaves at 7 in the morning for class, we opt for the click of the coffee maker button over the slow, kind pour.

But there, we’d decided, and chose the cherish.

I thoroughly cleaned the Publix brand beans out of the grinder, and we popped open a bag.

Travis looked at the beans and smiled.

We poured them into the grinder. We listened. We boiled water. We waited.

Then the slow pour, then the kindness of coffee sweeping through our household.

We prepared our cups, carefully choosing from those hanging on our old windows against the wall. And the boys begged for some, too. Even Isaiah, 1 1/2, knows his taste buds and appreciates the brew.

So as I drove in the car that night, I stopped myself from dreaming the silliest of dreams, because if I could get countless cups of whatever I wanted every single day that I wanted it, I’d never experience the kindness of this cup, of the gift of friends and family from far away, who reach right into the heart of Georgia to meet us in our little home.

There is kindness in a coffee bean, kindness in an afternoon breath of quiet in the midst of everything busy.