I'm Smellin' Coffee

And I was listening to Chris Rice - and this short story ended up working itself out of my brain... I'm not an writer by any stretch of the imagination... but I kinda like it. Enjoy.

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I couldn’t believe it. The time was nearly 1 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. The weather outside was there to remind us that it was October. It was cold, windy, and threatening to rain. The blinds on the windows were set in such a way to let in what natural light there was. Looking through them you could perfectly imagine how it would feel to be outside. The unharvested wheat in the fields was bending in such a way that indicated consistent strong winds. The trees echoed this motion in their leaves.

Inside I was in my fleece pajama pants and high school swimming sweatshirt, my bare feet were cold, but I didn’t care. I was in heaven! I was curled up in my favorite overstuffed armchair by the stone fireplace that had a roaring fire in it. I had just popped in my favorite version of ‘Sense and Sensibility’ into the DVD player. I had a fresh cup of coffee in my mug, the smell alone was warming my spirit. My yarn basket was tucked under the armchair. I situated myself so that I could see the screen. Thank you political correctness, I thought as I pulled my feet up under my legs so I was sitting cross-legged in the chair.

I pressed play on the DVD remote, picked up the pair of mittens I was knitting. I was going to enjoy this moment, the sheer joy of the lazy Saturday. I took in a deep breath, took a sip of my coffee and began the next round on the cuff of my mitten; knit one, purl one, repeat to end of the round.
Then something went terribly wrong with the picture, there was this horrible buzzing going on in the background. I could not figure out where it was coming from, even though I looked all around.

I made one mistake, I opened my eyes. It was not a blustery Saturday afternoon, it was 5 on a Thursday morning, the birds were singing though the sun wasn’t up yet, and my alarm was going off.

“Must be a Thursday,” I quoted to my bedroom ceiling, “could never get the hang of Thursdays.” Somehow the quote seemed more appropriate today than most other Thursdays and I hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet.

I groaned, threw the sheets off, and got up. It had been such a lovely dream – why did it have to be just that? I was not excited to face the day. Then I smelt it – that was why the coffee smell in the dream had been so perfect. There was coffee in the kitchen downstairs.

I grabbed my robe and hurried to the kitchen, on the table was a plate of blueberry scones and a note: “I’m smellin’ coffee, birds are singing just outside. Here comes Your mercy streaming in with the morning light. My heart is racing, waking up to Your smile. It’s a good morning.” Love you!!

It was just the reminder I needed. Even if the note, the coffee, and the scones had been from my boyfriend sneaking into my house early that morning, and the lyrics on the note were from Chris Rice, I needed the reminder that God’s mercy makes every day new – and that He can save even the worst of Thursdays. It ended up being a great Thursday.