Coffee…rich, aromatic, sharp, and revitalizing…is one of my favorite things and, quite often, the reason I get out of bed each morning. According to legend, coffee was always there–we just didn’t know it until a young goat herder walking his livestock along the Ethiopian plateau stopped alongside some berry bushes and let his herd chow down. The goats began dancing and frolicking soon after, so the young goat herder decided to sample the berries, too. After experiencing a similar boost in energy, he shared the berries with some drowsy monks who used them to stay awake during nighttime prayers, and then the monks cashed in on the buzz the berries created.

There are many ways to enjoy coffee, but as self-proclaimed coffee snobs, my husband and I prefer the pour-over method–using freshly ground beans, of course. Coffee-making has become a sort of ritual for me, as I go through the same steps each morning to savor my one, glorious, cup of joe. The pour-over method is not quick. You have to heat the water, grind the beans, place the filter, and then pour the water slowly and methodically over the ground beans.

Making coffee this way can seem interminable–especially when I’m really sleepy–and my arm often gets tired from holding the goose-necked kettle over the glass carafe, though I tell myself it’s an exercise in strength-training. As the coffee blooms, it’s aroma rises and wafts around me. This is when impatience sets in, and I often find myself tipping the kettle too far in an effort to speed the water’s flow, resulting in a spill that I then have to clean up. Or, I attempt to pour my coffee before all the water has seeped through the filter, leading to a sludgy mess in and around my cup.

Often, as I’m working through this practice of patience, I think of all the labor that went into my coffee–not mine, but the many hands that brought the beans from far-off fields to my kitchen–and I take a moment to give thanks for them. On my best days, this ritual reminds me that I am a small part of something much bigger, that I am connected to people I will never meet, but whom I depend on each day. And when I let impatience have its way and make a mess, I am also reminded that God is never in a hurry. All of his work takes time, and its usually a lot longer than we’re willing to wait.

We live in a world of NOW, focused on the immediate rather than the long-term, but that’s not who God is. From the beginning, God had the eternal in mind, and when it all went sideways, he remained patient, letting his plans unfold in their proper time, and ensuring that each of the players in those plans were truly ready for the job God was giving them.

Consider David. He was just a child when Samuel anointed him God’s chosen king, and yet it would be years before he actually ascended the throne. David wasn’t ready to lead, and the people of Israel weren’t ready for his leadership. It took time (and a lot of running from a murderous king) before this man after God’s own heart was ready for the task God had called him to. And even after he’d achieved what God had designed, there was still a lot of soul-work to be done, and many more periods of waiting. In fact, “How long, O Lord?” becomes a common question throughout many of the Psalms attributed to David. Waiting is hard…especially when it feels like the world around you is falling apart. We, too, ask “How long, O Lord?” And often, the answer is “wait.”

Yet something important happens in the waiting…if we let it. Just as the coffee blooms and becomes fragrant as I pour the water over the grounds, so our souls expand and flourish as God works within them to bring his plans to fruition. We learn patience in the waiting. We also learn surrender and acceptance, which can, ultimately, lead to contentment and peace, regardless of our circumstances. God never promised us a quick fix, or, really, even a fix. But he did promise us his presence, no matter how long the wait. And he did promise that our hope in him would never be put to shame, even if the road is long and hard. Each morning, as I go through my somewhat absurd coffee-making ritual, I remember that God’s goodness will come, and we will be all the more grateful because of it.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara