I’m back at work this week, so I need to get my usual habits back in order. That means setting up my coffee for Monday morning. The folks in my department were very nice and sent me a gift basket which (in addition to a really good bourbon I’ve yet to crack open) had coffee.
I decided to try one of the coffees, a Brazilian blend. Since it’s pre-ground, I decide to grab the percolator pot my father gave me a few years back. I reach up into the cabinet and the moment I lay eyes on it… *boom*. I turn into a blubbering mess.
Now there’s a story behind this coffee pot, it in part lead to the falling out I had with my parents 2 years ago which I discussed in the post Thy Will Be Done.
My father had always used a very old percolator made by Farberware when making coffee. I’m fairly certain it was a wedding gift to my parents that they received back in 1960, and over the years has only ever needed to have its power cord replaced. I’m sure you’ve seen one…
The thing about a percolator, is that it makes a very strong and flavorful cup of coffee. IMHO there really is not a better way to get the job done. So after my dad gave me a 4-cup model, I proceeded to go through 2-3 pots a day (read: 8-12 cups a day).
This lead to insomnia (because, duh). Until I discovered the correlation, I did my usual Facebook post complaining about a problem sleeping. Now my Dad could see these posts, he knew I worked hard, and the fact I wasn’t sleeping made him worry… quite a bit.
So one day he showed up at my house unexpectedly… and tried to be my Dad. He was worried. He shared his worries. I wouldn’t have any of it. I took it all as an attack. I did what I normally do when I’m attacked and lash out verbally. I unloaded a lifetime of anger at him.
So many things I said so quickly. So much that I didn’t listen to at all. We’d been fine for nearly a decade, and within moments I unloaded near 40 years of things that really shouldn’t have mattered. I was – pardon my French – an asshole to my Dad. He didn’t deserve it.
After the fight he tried to reach out a couple times, but I kept shutting him down. I was such a prideful fool. What followed were months of silence. Skipped holidays. Anger. Resentment. Pain. Regret. Hopelessness.
My dad and I have had many fights and arguments over the years… We were two sides of the same coin. Many a time it lead us to retreat to our mutual corners until one of us made amends. Our last big fight was back in 2006, and my late uncle Roger got us talking again.
God knew what was coming to my family, and specifically how tenuous my relationship with my dad was. God worked in our lives even when I didn’t believe in Him. God knew we had to settle things, and as far as my human pea brain can process – it started with that coffee pot.
Had my father not given me that coffee pot… we would have never had that specific fight.
Had we not had that specific fight… I wouldn’t have fallen so far into a pit of despair.
For God commanded, ‘Honor your father and your mother,’ and, ‘Whoever reviles father or mother must surely die.’Matthew 15:4
Had I not experienced such despair… I wouldn’t have begun to seek the Truth.
You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.Jeremiah 29:13
Had I not sought the Truth… I would not have been saved by Christ.
Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.John 3:5
Had I not been saved by Christ… I wouldn’t have been listening to Him.
And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.Ezekiel 36:26
Had I not listened to Him… I would not have reconciled with my parents.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation;2 Corinthians 5:17-18
Had I not reconciled with my parents… I cannot imagine the regret I would feel today.
As it stands, I have no regrets. God made peace between my father and I. Despite the emotional landmines that I will step on in light of my father’s passing, and any tears I shed, I find joy because I know where he is, who he is with, and that I will see him again. Praise God.
The coffee came out great, by the way. Thanks Dad.