Thoughts on Coffee

I’m addicted to coffee.

Or rather the combination of coffee, cream and sugar. Iced Vanilla Coffee with Cream, Large, to be exact. (I refuse to say Venti. It’s too hard to remember, and besides, I don’t speak Italian.)

Of course, coffee is one of the more acceptable addictions. It doesn’t impair my ability to drive or make decisions or cause me to be mean or miss out on obligations and promises. It does, however, take up a ridiculous amount of my brain space — planning when I will have my next cup. Dreaming of it. Setting my day by it.

Today I am drinking my favorite drink at Starbucks, and I have been thinking about this drink for several days now. WHAT??!?!!? Doesn’t that sound crazy? How could 16 ounces of liquid rule so much of my world? (I desperately wanted to order the 24 ounce, but refrained.)

I go back and forth, wishing I could drink as much coffee as I wanted to without feeling guilty. And sometimes I feel like “I should be able to drink coffee without worrying about it, damn it!”

(I don’t’ really say “Damn it!,” but that’s essentially the emotion behind it.)

But there are a couple practical factors that should limit my intake, like the fact that too much will contribute to gaining weight. I am one of those lucky ones who never really had to worry about that, but as I get older, it is a little harder to keep those extra five pounds off, and I’m sure if I drank unlimited amounts of coffee (with sugar), I’d struggle even more. Another factor that limits my intake is fertility. Both caffeine and sugar aren’t good for it, and we would still like to have one more child if we can. And finally, coffee can get expensive if you’re stopping at Starbucks every day.

Aside from the practical factors, the spiritual one is a million times more important — my need to comfort myself and put something that should be a small blessing in my day on such a pedestal in my life.

I don’t desire God the way I desire coffee.

(My eyes well up with tears as I write that. Putting it on paper makes it feel more real.)

So, do I give coffee up entirely? If I was an alcoholic, the best thing to do would be to give up alcohol entirely…

Here’s what I’m trying today. I wrote a coffee liturgy – basically a prayer of thankfulness to practice each time I enjoy coffee. I’m hoping that by acknowledging my need for God and thanking him for the gift He has given in simple pleasures of our taste buds and the positive things it does in our brain, will help me put Him back on the pedestal over my coffee.

I know that with any addiction, God doesn’t usually give radical deliverance from it. One of the best talks I heard about it (from Sharon Hersh) was that God is way more likely to use our addictions to remind us that we are in continual need of dependence on him.

And so, today I am trying to be mindful of His goodness to provide good gifts, and to work to keep the importance of the Giver far above the gift itself. I really don’t know if this is just a clever, sinful attempt to justify drinking coffee. And it may be. That's why I think this will be a long-term battle in my life, until that glorious day when I meet Christ face-to-face. That’s why one aspect of this is to work to be satisfied with the one cup and not be gluttonous about it (a little bit of C.S. Lewis there for you). We'll see how it goes.

I welcome your thoughts (Liturgy below).

Coffee Liturgy for the Ritual of Morning Coffee

Father, as I hold this cup of coffee in my hands, waiting to taste that first delightful sip on my tongue,

I thank you.

[Breathe deeply]

I thank you for this gift of flavors and the good feelings it releases in my brain.

[Breathe deeply]

May I be satisfied with your provision of this cup.

[Breathe deeply]

May I remember that You are the one my heart longs for and this cup can never substitute for your presence in my life.

[Breathe deeply]

May each sip remind me of your goodness to provide simple pleasures to your children.

[Breathe deeply]

Father, I thank you.