Entitled to Coffee

Today I caught myself thinking, “I deserve a cup of coffee” when Hadleigh was humiliating me in Home Depot.

To back up, Hadleigh was having a literal throw-down on the floor. People were passing with awkward “You need to do something about this” or “I pity you” faces. The meltdown lasted. And lasted. We’ve always compared Hadleigh’s cry to a screeching baby pig, but with the volume of 10 piglets. If you’ve never heard a baby pig, go to your local petting farm and check it out. Your eardrums will be singed.

So there I was, and the Spirit was holding me back from losing my cool, and I was feeling this entitlement toward coffee. It was a seemingly harmless thought that showed the depth of my heart.

Sometimes we think we deserve things. We think we deserve the perfect marriage, dream job, or for me, an angel baby.

I immediately thought of Romans where we learn the opposite is true. We are actually enemies of God (Rom. 5:10) and deserve death (Rom. 6:23). Not even a cup of coffee, just death, eternal separation from God. That’s what i deserve. “But God”–these words encouraged me today, showing God didn’t leave us there. “But God demonstrates His own love toward sinners” through Christ’s death (Romans 5:8), but then expanding even more, He gives what only Christ, the Perfect One, deserves–His very own righteousness, presence, inheritance, and blessing–to His children.

Seeing my child today gave me a glimpse of who I am–needing No reward based on my behavior. I am no better than a tantrum-throwing, screeching piglet. And quite honestly, I can throw a good fit, myself. I NEED the Gospel!

Fear not, I DID get that cup of coffee, but not because I deserved it, but because I really wanted a homemade pumpkin spice latte. And, Hadleigh DID get disciplined with her beloved babydoll taken away from her for a while, as well as a good Gospel/Grace-centered 2-minute sermon. Though I’m pretty sure she wasn’t understanding most of what I said, it was a reminder to me.

Grace is abundant and beautifully undeserved.


When Hadleigh came to me later and asked for kisses, snuggled on my lap and asked to play babydolls with her, God reminded me, it was His grace on display, not something I was entitled to. Any goodness in my life, even the breath in my lungs, can only come from the source of all good. Praise to Him, from who all blessings flow!


A letter to my mini-me

Dear mini-me,

A part of me gets nostalgic every time summer comes to an end and we start buying school supplies. I totally connect with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in “You’ve Got Mail,” and melt at the smell of “bouquet of newly sharpened pencils” (especially if they are perfectly labeled with a label machine). I’m reminded of my elementary years. I LOVED school, and I say that with no exaggeration. I adored every bit of it (minus the occasional relational drama), and I honestly pray that you and your siblings would be lovers of learning, as well.

When Connor went to kindergarten, I was ecstatic. I wasn’t necessarily dying for him to get out of the house (even with you at home and Hadleigh on the way). I truly enjoy having you all with me, but I was beyond giddy for him on his first day of school. I did cry…in the car…and I blame my pregnant hormones 100%. You might have slight memory of that.

This year was a little different. You were so excited to go to kindergarten, but a part of me was aching inside. Perhaps it’s because you are a girl, sweet, with fragile emotions, or perhaps it’s because when I look at you, I see a mini-me. It’s probably a little of both, but I have realized seeing the “me” in you creates an unhealthy protectiveness. It’s selfishly motivated, like I could possibly change the bad that happened to me by trying to protect you.

Why do I do that?

I want to protect you, it’s my responsibility to protect you, and I promise to fight for you, but the problem comes when I place pressure on myself to insure your happiness at all times. It’s exhausting, dear one, and someday you might experience that with your own babies.

Somehow, I believed the lie that failure or sadness would harm you. However, if God’s desire is for His children to be more and more conformed to the image of His Son, then sometimes happiness has to take the fall, maybe even a big fall. I often pray protection over you, but when the unavoidable pains of life happen, as they always do, I need you to cling to this: You can be so deeply strengthened and shaped during the times you have no strength to shape yourself. That might just be the beauty of pain. It’s then that our self-promoting, self-seeking, self-protecting inner person crumbles, and we can only rely on God, Himself, to do something glorious in and through us.


When you make a mistake and you get embarrassed, your face turns red, and you feel like crying, God can shape you. Let Him lift up your head so you can bask in His perfection.

When a classmate doesn’t accept you, and maybe even makes fun of you, God can shape you. Let Him remind you that you are His creation and lead you to those who are hurting, themselves, and need a friend.

When you hurt someone’s feelings, and you you feel the burn of regret, God can shape you. Let Him show you forgiveness and give you humility to ask for forgiveness.

When you face the choice to be brave or accepted, God can shape you. Let Him go before you and give you courage.

When you have to wait for something, something you really want, God can shape you. Let Him be your treasure.

In moments of despair, suffering, or frustration, God can shape you. In moments of sadness, anger, and error, God can shape you. In all things, God can shape you.

And let me walk beside you, sweet one. As your character is shaped, let me always walk beside you.

You are my beauty, and I love you very much.


“For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, neither present things nor things to come, neither powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39