How’s Your Filter?

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I was brushing my teeth when I heard them. Now, I’m not a morning person and don’t wake up easily, but these noises I recognized. My young daughters were in the kitchen together, “secretly” making us breakfast. 

 

“Don’t start the shower,” I told Mark. “We have to get back in bed and act surprised.”

 

It took a while. 

 

In the meantime, this is what we heard:

 

Cabinet door slamming.

 

“Shhhhhhh.”

 

Dishes clanking onto the countertop.

 

“Shhhhhhh!”

 

An egg rolling, then dropping onto the kitchen floor.

 

“SHHHHHH!”

 

At least I could smell the coffee.

 

About an hour and a half later, our bedroom door opened and two pair of excited eyes glistened with excitement. Hannah, our oldest, was holding a tray and Hilary followed juggling two cups of coffee. 

 

Mark and I sat up in bed, trying to look freshly awakened. “Breakfast in bed???” I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes for extra flourish. 

 

Giggling ensued and they began to explain the lavish meal that we were having. 

 

Looking down at our perspective plates, we discovered a hearty meal of burned toast, rubberized eggs and charred bacon. All served room temperature, warmed with love. 

 

“How wonderful!” we cooed. “What a delightful way to begin the weekend.” 

 

As I lifted my fork, Mark sipped his coffee. His look coupled with the stifled cough told me that it wasn’t quite right either. Wiping the grounds off his tongue and onto his napkin, Mark queried for more information. “The coffee is a little stronger than I make it. How many scoops do you use?”

 

Eager to share her secrets, Hannah disclosed, “We couldn’t find the scoop, so we just guessed. It seems a little darker than yours and those little grainy things kept falling into the pot. But since you like it strong, Dad, we went ahead and filled that basket thing with coffee.” 

 

Afterwards, when Mark and I offered to do clean up, we opened the coffee basket to find it full to the brim with wet grounds. A very sad paper filter was crumpled down with the weight of about a half pound of coffee.

 

The state of the filter matters. 

 

Unlike our elementary barista, God measures out the perfect amount of His Word to brew within us. But once in our basket, Truth must be filtered through our spiritual understanding in order to result in faith. If our filter relies on our own past experiences, then we can find ourselves holding a stout mug of doubt, rather than an energizing cup of faith. 

 

When the Father speaks Truth to you, are you allowing doubt to crumple the power of His promises? Or are you using the perfectly formed filter of trust to see with faith?

 

I’m praying you will choose the latter.

 

I’m also praying that if your next cup of coffee isn’t perfectly brewed, at least it will be made with love.

faithst