Coffee
Friday, July 20th, 2007Once, when I was young, my family visited my mom’s cousin, who lived in a small, quaint town. She and her family were very religious and one of the first things her children asked me was if I had received Jesus into my heart.
I believed in Jesus, but I didn’t really understand what they meant so I said no. Instantly, the older boy stole me away. He was going to explain what they had meant, but before he could, his younger sister took me to her room and locked the door. The older brother pounded on the door, saying that it was not fair, that he wanted to be the one to bring me to Jesus. Finally, he gave up, or at least quieted down.
The sister explained that I had to believe everything in the Bible, accept Jesus as my Savior, and let him into my heart. I was a little scared because I didn’t really understand what was happening. If I was supposed to do this, why had no one explained this to me before?
She read some passages from the Bible and said, “Do you accept Jesus Christ as your Savior and Lord, and allow him into your heart and guide you in each step of every day?”
Yes,” I replied.
She smiled and gave me a hug. Then, we both went downstairs into the kitchen, and she made us some coffee “the way mom makes it.”
It was my first sip of coffee, and my last, but I knew that even though this horrible tasting liquid would never cross my lips again, the word that had crossed my lips would have a lasting effect on my life.