Coffee with Jesus☕✨
A heart’s daily appointment with grace.
I met Jesus for coffee today.
As we sat across from each other, He reached for my hand and began to weep for me. I asked Him why.
He said,
“A year ago, you were in so much darkness that you cried out, saying you couldn’t see the light—you couldn’t see My light.
A year ago, your heart was shattered into a million pieces.
A year ago, you asked Me what the point of living was. You begged Me to take you from this world if losing your loved ones would always feel that unbearable.
A year ago, life knocked the breath out of your lungs.
You didn’t know how to stand back up.
But today... today, you ask Me to fill your heart with love.
Today, you ask Me to use you.
Today, you ask Me to be with you—always.
Today, you call Me your forever light.
Today, you ask Me to heal you.”
Who knew coffee with Jesus could be this emotional... this healing... this deeply loving?
When I fell and the world moved on, I lay there with nothing left in me. But I saw Him. I saw Him coming toward me. He sat beside me. He held me. And when I told Him I had no strength, He picked me up and carried me until I was ready to walk again.
His light shone through my darkness. And His light still shines.
He nodded, as if He could hear the thoughts behind my silence. We smiled and shared a giggle over our now-cold coffee. I reached for His hands again. This time, words flowed freely:
“Thank You for never leaving me. Thank You for giving me purpose. Thank You for healing me. My life is Yours—forever Yours. Please let me stay with You always.”
He smiled, squeezed my hand, and pulled me into a hug—a warm, safe, heart-anchoring hug that felt like Home.
Tears began to stream down my cheeks. But this time, they were tears of peace and healing. He gently wiped them away.
“You know,” I whispered, “I never imagined any good could come from my dad’s passing. But in the pain, I found You again. I wish I could tell him how much we love him, how grateful we are.”
Jesus looked at me, smiled softly, and said,
“Turn around.”
And there he was—my dad, standing at the entrance of the coffee shop.
Our eyes met. I ran into his arms like I always did. There were no words, but he understood everything.
“My sweetpea,” he said, “I’m so proud of you. Keep going. I hear you. I’m with you, always. We’ll see each other again very soon.”
He kissed my forehead and held me close.
I looked over at Jesus and mouthed, “Thank You.” He nodded, smiling gently.
The three of us sat at the table—sharing old memories, my dad telling stories about Heaven, Jesus answering our most anticipated questions.
As our time together came to a close, I leaned back and let my heart be carried away by His peace.
“Same time tomorrow?” I asked.
“You betcha,” my dad replied.
“Can I bring my mom?” I asked Jesus.
“Of course you can, I already know your mother and I love her.” He said with a wink.
“And we’ll meet every day after that.”
And so, I keep showing up—coffee in hand, heart wide open—because some mornings, healing tastes a lot like grace in a cup shared with the One who never let go. He met me in the mourning... and made it morning again.