The little blue light blinked and the screen blinked the message of certain death: PRIME. I’d seen it before. This isn’t my first Keurig.
When I bought my first one, a friend warned me: “You’ll fall in love with it and then it will make you beg it for coffee.”
She was right. In the first two years I went through four of them. Most broke after about four months. One lasted less than a week. To the company’s credit, they have tremendous customer service. Every time the dreaded “PRIME” signal appeared, I’d call and within 24 hours they’d have a shiny new machine on my doorstep, all completely free of charge.
This last machine had lasted quite a while — almost two years! I thought we’d finally come to terms. I knew how to treat the machine with tender affection. It had learned not to deprive me of my morning (afternoon and evening) nectar. But then it betrayed me.
I was about to leave for five days in Nashville and didn’t have the time nor energy to deal with it. I calmly turned off the machine, deciding to deal with it when I got home.
I got home Sunday night. Monday morning I said a quick prayer and then turned the machine on again.
My first reaction was to praise God. Seriously, literally, praising Him.
My next reaction was disbelief. Like I said, I’d been here before and was quite certain that God’s little miracle was temporary and I’d eventually have to deal with the Prime Problem. Still — I was thrilled for my one cup of goodness and would ride it out until God’s coffee grace was exhausted.
That all happened in November. It is now January. The Prime Problem never returned.
Now, part of me wants to say “Yay! God healed my Keurig!” But a much bigger part of me knows this has nothing to do with coffee or some miraculous intervention of mechanics.
God loves me more than coffee. He doesn’t care about my coffee machine, but He loves me beyond comprehension. I don’t know why, but I do know that on that morning back in November when I was exhausted from travel, drained from interpersonal drama, facing a mountain of laundry and a family who had missed me and needed my attention, an empty refrigerator and a house that hadn’t been tended — on that morning, I needed God’s grace. I needed just a tiny show of His ceaseless love for me. And He provided that in a tangible way. Yes, it was just a cup of coffee, but it was huge to me.
When I started this post back in November, that was all I was going to say. But now I have to add one more thing: God’s grace never runs out. True: my Keurig could break any day, but let’s not equate this hunk of plastic to the infinite grace of our Creator. His grace never, ever, ever runs out.
All the coffee in the world can’t compete with that.
TALK TO ME: Has God ever shown you a tangible example of His grace? Tell me about it. I want to hear the story.