I smell the hot coffee;
It floats on the wind.”
–Red Steagall
Gray light already, goodness pard, I’m movin’ slow this mornin’. Bones are a achin’, hmmm, maybe rain comin’ our way. But I heard the sound of coffee bein’ poured into a cup. Ever listen to it? There is somethin’ that makes the soul anticipate when they hear that sound. There is a promise in that sound. I read somewhere that “The sound of coffee is the sound of life, a herald’s call to a brighter future.” Then comes the taste, ahhh, yep, sure ‘nough the day’s goin’ to be brighter.
Makes me ponder that Saturday so long ago. The disciples had lost their good friend, their Master. They had heard the promises, but they dwelt mostly on the events of the crucifixion. Don’t we do the same? We dwell so much on the troubles of the day and forget to look up. The wars, the terror, and the thought of what might happen tomorrow worries us into a frenzy at times, but pard, He told us when these things come about to look up–redemption draws nigh.
So when we hear these things we should heed the promise of the One who was in the tomb, but rose in victory. That Saturday was a dark day, for they forgot all of the promises. Let’s not get numb with life and do the same. Coffee? Sure pard. Let me pour you another cup, and just listen to that sound.
The promise is always there and will be fulfilled so don’t get weary with the things of the world. You go gettin’ your mind on other things and might forget to tighten that cinch. Remember, He is risen!