I've had an on again, off again relationship with coffee for so long now that I don't even really remember just when or how it all started. I do know that our friendship/relationship (if that's what you want to call it) had somewhat of a rocky start, sometimes I was in the mood...other times...yeah, not so much. As the years passed coffee and I became more than just friends, it turned into love, real love, thus began, this beautiful, crazy, weird, needy, obsessed relationship with coffee. I know that I need help, seriously, I should probably see a counselor, have some therapy for my addiction to this sweet, delicious tasting concoction called coffee, really I should, after all I am married, I have three crumb crunchers and loads of responsibilities to do each and everyday. I am so addicted to coffee that my own children(the poor souls) know that it's best not to talk to mommy in the morning until she (that would be moi) has had a cup of coffee, you see, I have trained my children (the whole train up a child in the way he should go, bible lingo, is really being practiced here.) that no one has a meltdown, whines, yells, complains or fights until I have had a cup of coffee, all I really need is just one sip. Just the aroma that coffee gives is so uplifting. It makes me feel marvelous. One sip of this sweet perfection and I feel as though I have found a little piece of heaven here on earth. I feel all warm and toasty inside, it's erratic, maniacal, unbalanced, yes, I know all this, but do I care what others think of me and my affection,(addiction) to coffee...NO!, not really, I mean, I see myself spiraling out of control and I don't really care to fix it.
God wants our best, deserves our best, and demands our best, from the beginning of time, He has been clear that some offerings are acceptable to him and others are not. It's easy to fill ourselves up with other things and then give God whatever is left. Hosea 13:6 says, "When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me." God gets a scrap or two only because we feel guilty for not giving Him nothing. A mumbled three minute prayer at the end of the day, when we are already half asleep. Two crumpled-up dollar bills thrown as an afterthought into the church's fund for the poor. Fetch, God! Wow! this brings tears to my eyes, for this is me, so busy with my life, kids, family that I have been satisfied just giving Him my leftovers! Leftovers are not merely inadequate; from God's point of view(and lest we forget, His is the only one that matters), they're evil. lets stop calling it a "busy schedule" or ...
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