Getting coffee right

Making coffee is a pretty simple operation in my house. I don’t own a French Press or anything fancy. I’ve just got this coffee pot and grinder on the counter. I fill the reservoir of the coffee maker with water, grind some coffee beans, and dump them in the reusable filter and when all those things are in place, I turn it on. Coffee.

Now because I’m not my sharpest first thing in the morning (which is why I drink coffee in the first place) I do all this before I go to bed. That way when the dogs wake me up I stop in the kitchen long enough to get the coffee started before sending them outside.

The danger is when I break the routine. Breaking any routine is dangerous. Like car keys. When I turn off the car I keep the keys firmly in hand until I’m standing outside the vehicle and only then do I lock it, never before.

Or sermons. Monday morning I get up and download whatever I did during the initial planning months before. Whether the sermon was fully written ahead of time or exists as a simple paragraph, I am now thinking about it wherever I go.

Ah, but the other Friday I broke the coffee routine by setting up tomorrow’s pot of coffee in the afternoon, then turning it on and drinking it over the course of the evening.

I should mention right now coffee doesn’t keep me awake. That’s a sign of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder, by the way, which if you know me is not a surprising diagnosis. Anyway, I went to bed at my normal time, read for about ten minutes, and fell fast asleep, forgetting I’d already drunk tomorrow’s pot of coffee.

Saturday morning I woke up, troubled by an odd dream. Just so you know, I not only enjoy reading scripture in Hebrew, I like the shape and sound of Hebrew words. But that night I dreamed that the book of Isaiah ended with chapter 55, and that it made no sense. The Hebrew words were a jumble, and my attempt to extract any meaning failed. In the dream the words were stacked out beyond a cliff into the clouds, kind of like a Looney Tunes cartoon where you hang over the edge for a long second before you realize you’re standing on thin air and are about to fall.

Okay, so preachers have odd dreams. Now in real life Isaiah 55 is one of my favorite passages, but I wasn’t preaching on Isaiah 55 that weekend anyway. I was preaching on Ezekiel 34, and the Good Shepherd, and 4-H during the Pandemic, stuff like that.

So while I was still confused from the dream I turned on the coffee maker and took care of the dogs. A little later I poured myself a cup and discovered the pot was empty. I didn’t remember at first I’d already drunk that pot the evening before. I just figured I’d forgotten to fill the reservoir so I poured in water, and turned it back on. A few minutes later I poured me a cup so weak I winced. That’s when I realized I sent boiling water through yesterday’s grounds. I sighed and started all over.

Eventually I got my caffeine fix. There are two lessons you can take from all this. First, Isaiah has 66 chapters, not 55, and they’re all wonderful. Second, and more important, never, ever bypass your coffee routine.