On Sunday, I got up in plenty of time to get ready and drive to church to open the coffee bar. However, as it often happens, I got distracted at home and didn't leave as early as I'd planned.
I like to arrive at 8 a.m., but it was 8:15 a.m. as I was parking my car. I hoped that, like usual, someone would have already turned on the two-burner commercial coffee maker. I groaned a bit when I walked behind the dark counter and didn't see a green (or even red) glow of the indicator lights. I quickly pressed the rocker switch so the coffee maker could heat up and got out filters, thermal pots, and containers of ground coffee.
One of my favorite things about volunteering for the coffee bar is hearing the worship band practice. I love getting a preview of the songs and it puts me in the mood to worship. Being a coffee lover myself, I enjoy making coffee for others. Before too long, the coffee maker was hot, and I had a couple of pots brewing.
I've been helping in the coffee bar for a year, and I was feeling like things were going pretty well. When the coffee had stopped brewing, I assembled the pots and gave them each a test pump to make sure they were working and lined them up on the counter beside the paper cups and plastic lids.
I quickly got two more pots going. I remembered to take one down to the gym for the Sunday School teachers. Soon people were arriving for the first service and beginning to help themselves. Suddenly on the other side of the counter my friend Kari exclaimed as suddenly and inexplicably the equivalent of a full cup of hot coffee was streaming down the sides of the pot and flooding the counter.
Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, the baked goods volunteer deposited a bundt cake and a coffee cake on the counter. Serving homemade goodies from the three-tier plexiglass pastry case is also part of the coffee bar position. I checked the time--almost time for the service to start. Several people were already lining up for slices, so I served it from the pan.
Just then my husband, Dave, came by to pick up a snack and tell me he was saving me a seat for the service. Seeing that I was overwhelmed and behind schedule, he offered to help me put the cake slices on parchment paper-lined trays. We each tackled a cake, and had the pieces arranged and in the pastry case before the announcements.
As I sat in my seat, during the next worship song, I was overcome with tears and frustration at how the morning had gone. I had wanted to be competent, in control. Instead, it had been close to a disaster.
I was tempted to blame the person in charge of re-stocking the coffee bar for the lack of paper towels, but I had been 15 minutes behind schedule too. Who was I to not extend grace?
I was also tempted to blame our vacuum coffee urns. Why had it leaked like that? I supposed I'd put the pot together in a hurry and made it malfunction. But God had sent me Kari, who'd jumped into action immediately and tackled the spill. And my sweet husband who, after arranging the cake slices on the tray, wiped the crumbs off the coffee bar and made sure everything was clean and neat.
In my pride, I wanted to do it all myself--perfectly. But I couldn't, I needed others. And at the point of greatest need, God sent the right people at the right time. My little coffee catastrophe was a snapshot of how the larger church often operates--someone in need is surrounded and helped by others.
We have different roles and tasks, like different parts of the body. And when one member suffers or is struggling, others come alongside to offer support and help.
My natural tendency is to want to be independent and self-sufficient, but sometimes I can't even make a pot of coffee without spilling half of it. I need help. And other times, I might be the one to offer a hand to someone else.
And when it all works together for God's glory, it's as beautiful as a hot cup of coffee and a slice of cake.
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