Holy Obedience Is Better Than a Cup of Cafe Bustelo
In an Instagram instant, my Lenten story . . .
. . . to which everyone on Facebook said . . .
. . . YOU ARE A SAINT.
Not true. I'm not a saint. The problem was that after my third was born, I went from one to three cups of coffee a day, which was too much for me. This Lent I knew that God wanted me to let go of my reliance on coffee and try relying on him.
So I switched to tea. Ain't no way I was giving up caffeine.
I was telling my priest all about my no good, horrible penance on Easter Sunday, making him laugh with my exaggerated anecdotal account of my forty weeks in the desert without Cafe Bustelo. Father, evil man that he is, then gave me an evil directive in an evil tone of voice:
"Keep it to one cup from now on, huh?"
ONE CUP?!?!? My husband says it's priestly prejudice against coffee. One cup. Hmmmph.
In all seriousness, Father's my regular confessor and when one's regular confessor gives a clear and not-objectionable directive, there's not much to be said except, Yes, Father. Our priest isn't the type to bark orders. If he says it - even during light banter, as was the case here - he probably means it.
One cup. Keeping it to one cup a day is healthier, and holy obedience is better than coffee. Le sigh.