I officially had my very first cup of non-blended coffee. It was a grande vanilla blonde roast, thank you very much. And yes, I felt ever so grown up drinking it. I may actually turn into a mature grown-up person one day, scary as that thought may be.
Then I got to thinking about marriage. Me the single guy thinking about marriage? Yep.
For years, I felt I couldn’t get married because I felt I’d never be mature enough or ready for all the responsibilities. Now I think maybe those are the very reasons that I’m ready.
I know I will need Jesus in my marriage for it to have even a ghost of a chance for success. I know I will need his strength daily to be the kind of husband and father I need to be. I know how weak and foolish I can be on my own strength.
Maybe the greatest folly going into a marriage is thinking that you’re ready for it. Maybe it’s when you think you can handle the biblical roles of husband and father that you’re most prone to the consequence that follows the sin of pride– namely, a great fall.
I’m not saying I will get married tomorrow or next week. I’ve left that in God’s hands. But I no longer believe that I CAN’T be a good husband or father. I can’t, but Jesus in me can.
I don’t want a typical American marriage. I don’t want to settle for normalcy. I don’t just want to plan for my wedding (and yes, I want to be a part of that); I want to plan for a lifelong marriage. I want a marriage where my wife and I serve together better than we ever could apart. I want a marriage that has a kingdom mission and purpose. I want my marriage to be a living witness to how great the love of Christ is for His bride, the Church.
And I know that I can’t begin to do that on my own. I can’t begin to dream of that on my own. It will take as much of Jesus flowing through me and out of me as I can humanly stand– and then some. It will take me being completely consumed until all that remains is Christ in me, the hope of glory.
All that from one cup of coffee. I may be up until 5 am, but right now I’m feeling mighty fine. Just think what kind of blogs I’ll write when I get hold of a venti cup of coffee.

Place Roast . My husband, on the other hand, loves the darkest of dark roasts – the bolder the better. And then there’s my dad, who, while he treasures his morning coffee, typically finds some of our coffees a little too dark for his tastes.