I hear the espresso machine squealing, but I turn the other way. You know those awkward few moments in time, after the pastor has dismissed you and the worship leader has strummed his last chord? You scan the crowd for faces you recognise, but the only ones you register are the faces that came in your van, just as uncertain as yourself. So you head for the safe place, the equaliser and bringer-together, the hot drinks station.
I had been briefed that there was coffee, even before I got to Mosaic Church. And since it’s New Zealand, I have high expectations. I see the latte glasses being passed out, I see the grins from my DTS students… but I also see the lines, too. So I turn away from the espresso machine, and reach for the Milo instead.
“What are you doing, Kayla? You want a coffee. Are you not willing to wait?”
That voice crashes into the thoughts of my heart once again. So kind, so upfront, so ready to push me into joy.
Yet when Jesus speaks, it’s never just about the coffee. Yeah, He likes classy flat whites, but He’s far more concerned about what a cup of coffee (or lack of getting one) reveals about my heart.
Because I know, as soon as I spoon the Milo powder into a white mug, that I am afraid. And impatient. Afraid to step out in awkward situations where I feel like an outsider, and impatient, thinking that what I want doesn’t matter enough to wait for.
So with my Milo mug serving as a hand-warmer, I wait in line. Sipping it, I’m disappointed with myself. It’s so bland! What was I thinking? And I laugh. Because the line is only three people long, and soon enough I have my own latte glass in my hand.
I hear the chatter of new friends, and I smile to myself.
Because all over again, I find
that Jesus is committed to me- fighting fiercely for my desires and cheekily prodding me to stand (and wait!) for what He’s put in my heart.
Even if it’s as simple as a cup of coffee.
