Cappuccinos and Posthumous Gratitude

I am not ashamed. I’ll tell anyone, any time of day! It’s not a secret; honestly, I’m very open about it! I love coffee. Cold brew, iced, cappuccinos, lattés, Americanos, cortados, PSL, or a simple cup from a French Press— I love it! Ask me about local coffee shops, or quality of the nearby Starbucks; watch me turn into a snob when someone gushes about their good ole Dunkin or McDonalds. I’ll tell you all about it! I might even get a thank you when someone takes my advice and discovers their new favorite cuppa joe.

…but I have to admit, sometimes I’m ashamed of other things. Like the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Oh, I am not ashamed of the message! It’s a beautiful thing, God’s plan of salvation! He valued filthy souls so much that He died for them, all so that they could have their filthiness washed clean and their souls secure for heaven when the time comes. I love that message! I have received it personally. But sometimes, I’m ashamed to practice it. I won’t tell you about what Jesus has done for me, or about His work on the cross. …because I’m afraid. Or busy. Or because I feel like it’s not socially acceptable at the moment. So you might never know the truth, never know what you’re missing out on. And when I get to heaven, there might not be anyone to thank me for showing them the Way. It’s sad! How many of you relate to me here?

Sharing the Gospel is as easy as talking about a cappuccino, but it is so much more important. It’s such a struggle; it just doesn’t feel natural! But we’re commanded to share this Good News! I’m speaking to my own heart here too. Let’s just do it! Wouldn’t it be so worth it to make it to Paradise only to be greeted with the gratitude of someone else who got there because we told them how? Isn’t it worth more than a cup of coffee?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s