I came to coffee by way of tea.

My mother is a tea drinker, always stirring in her honey and lemon. Then there’s the part of my story where I worked in a tea store, and learned to tell customers about the various health benefits of tea — how black tea is good for heart health and how white tea is rich in antioxidants.

I learned about pu’er tea, which is good for digestion . . . and how yerba-maté is a worthy substitute for coffee. I learned that green tea should be steeped at 140°F – 185°F for three minutes, while herbal teas, like chamomile, peppermint, or African rooibos, should be steeped at 212°F for four minutes.

I love tea and forever will love tea. I’ll take it any way I can get it – loose tea, in sachets and bags. I’ll take it steeped and served in ceramic mugs, porcelain tea cups, even disposable cups.

Still, there is a part of me that’s come to really appreciate a good cup of coffee. The fascination started when I was a young adult visiting Großhansdorf, Germany. Upon waking each morning, I welcomed the day with a spread of boiled eggs, fruit, and freshly baked bread, served alongside ghee and honey and jam. This is when and where I began drinking bold black coffee.

It started slowly, beginning with breakfast . . . and then led toward taking a cup of coffee at lunch and even at dinner. After my time in Germany, I drank coffee any way and any time I could have it. Iced caramel lattes first thing in the morning. Black cups of coffee just before bedtime.

Turns out, my coffee drinking came just in time to serve me well as a college student who wore tiredness like a trophy. I’d pull all-nighters to finish my assignments and then count on coffee to carry me through my exhaustion. But, I noticed a pattern beginning to take form — instead of drinking coffee because it delighted me, I started drinking coffee simply because it excited my body.

Flash forward to this current season. I’ve found myself, once again, counting on coffee to carry me through my days. I’m in the thick of motherhood (raising two boys, ages 6 and 3), working a combination of jobs that keep me clocked in full-time, all the while managing a chronic illness that conveniently has “fatigue” listed as the number one symptom.

If I’m honest, the truth is it’s not just caffeine and coffee that I find myself turning to — it’s also the suggestive ads that tell me to try this product and that. It’s the bath salts and the ionized water. The smoothies from Whole Foods. The books and self-care creams — every little thing that promises to make me better, stronger, and healthier calls to me.

Less tired. More energized.
Less exhausted. More rested.
Less depleted. More revitalized.

I know that I am not the only one who is strained and stressed, tired, and always running out of time. I know I’m not the only one who is bone-tired — waking with bags under the eyes, swigging endless cups of coffee while daily doing the deep work of bearing the burdens that come with being and breathing in this broken world.

We are worn out. We are tapped. We are tired of and from watching the news and waiting for God to usher in salvation and solutions. We are holding our collective breath, barely awake and hardly aware of our need for rest — true rest.

In the quiet moments, when I sit in silence long enough to let the truth be loud, I can hear the holy whisper. And maybe you do, too?

I need Christ more than I need coffee.

In the morning when we rise, and in the evening when we lay our heavy bodies, burdened and all. When we’re tested, tired, and tried. When work piles up. When bills pile up. When dishes pile up. When piles pile up.

Always, we need Christ more than coffee — more than the next anti-aging cream or ergonomic pillow that promises to take away the tired.

On this side of heaven, there will always be toys to pick up and toil and tasks. Like tried travelers — in search of somewhere to put up our sandals — we will go about our days waiting, until kingdom come, for true rest to come.

Until then, may God’s eternal truth echo throughout our bodies, however bone-tired they may be.

It is Christ who takes the tired away — wipes our tears and bares our heavy burdens. He is our rest, every moment with Him a reprieve for our weary souls.

For, in His presence is peace and quiet, calm and hush; in His Word is hope and purpose and inspiration and strength.

In Him, we have everything we need to make it through the endless loop of our demanding days.

In Him, may we rest . . . and live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28).

Amen.

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